The Wolf Has Claws
by BarrZ
Summary: King Robb Stark receives a letter warning him about the Red Wedding. How will he act? AU. No WW.
1. Robb I

**I own nothing but the plot. All characters and rights are of George R.R. Martin.**

 **Heeyo! I'm BarrZ and welcome to my first story, I hope you enjoy it!**

 **This starts with the premise that Robb receives a warning about the Red Wedding, along with Roose Bolton and Walder Frey treason. It will be a progressive AU from that, and also, there are no White Walkers in the story, so there are some sub-plots that will be completely AU.**

 **Without further introduction, let's go!**

* * *

 **Robb I**

Olyvar Frey rushed inside the King's tent at the Stark camp.

"My king" vowed respectfully

Robb Stark, Lord of Winterfell and first King in the North since Torrhen Stark gave up his crown to Aegon the conqueror, looked at him with annoyance.

"What is the meaning of this, Olyvar?" His squire didn't respond and just handed him the letter. He took it and read it.

 _To Lord Roose Bolton,_

 _A Wardenship for a wolf's coat. The twin towers will aid you. We pay our debts._

 _Tywin Lannister_

He could feel his rage burning inside of him. He knew that Bolton and Frey weren't trustworthy, but he needed their men and appreciated Roose counsel, whose cold view of the situation tempered the war councils, considering that Greatjon Umber and Rickard Karstark, his other chief advisors along with Ser Brynden Tully, thirst for blood and vengeance were not that useful outside of the battlefield. But he knew the bloody history and enmity between their houses, and even his father hadn't trusted Lord Bolton at all. Decided to find the truth, he questioned his squire.

"Olyvar, where did you find this letter?"

"I saw a small shape slipping out of my tent. I tried to chase him, but at the time I was in front of my tent, it had banished into the shadows. When I entered, I saw the letter in my bed with a note saying that I should give it to you as soon as possible."

Truth to be told, he didn't know if he could trust him. It's true that he had always been a dutiful squire, who did everything he was asked for and who fought beside him in the Whispering wood and Oxcross, but he was a Frey, and if the letter was true, the Freys were sided with Roose Bolton. After thinking about it for a minute, he decided to keep him close for the moment, as he had been taught, _keep your friends close and your enemies closer_.

"Very well. Bring me my sword and call for Lords Umber and Karstark. Tell them to meet with me at once, armed and with the utmost discretion, and prepare 10 of my most trusted household guards."

"At once my King"

He readied himself and thought about the war. He came from the North with twenty-two thousand men and had lost four thousand. He had won every battle, liberated the Riverlands from Pinkmaiden to Harrenhall, captured the infamous Kingslayer and routed his army, pushing the Lannisters into the Crownlands and sacked the Westerlands, but despite all of this achievements, he realised that he almost lost the war at the moment he married Jeyne Westerling. He didn't marry her for love, but for honour, and this was going to cost him the three thousand men of the Freys, and probably more than half of the Boltons, apart from being considered an oathbreaker. Thanks the old gods that Dacey Mormont stopped his mother attempt of liberating the Kingslayer in exchange for his sisters. He couldn't afford to alienate his bannermen or lose his most valuable prisoner.

He was in a desperate need of allies, but he had no options. The Tyrells would be soon bound by marriage with the Lannisters. Stannis controlled the Stormlands and the Narrow Sea, but he burned everybody who didn't follow R'hllor and had suffered a major defeat in King's Landing. The Vale was silent, and Dorne was out of question. His last resort were the Iron Islands, but Balon Greyjoy was a madman and he needed Theon with him. Anyways, his thoughts were interrupted.

"You summoned us my king" said the giant known as Greatjon Umber.

"Indeed my lord, and with the most dreadful news. Read this" he said, passing the letter to both Umber and Karstark.

Lord Umber turned red with rage. Karstark was speechless.

"This massive cunt! I swear that I will chop off his fucking head" yelled the Greatjon

"Relax Lord Umber. If the accusation is true, Bolton is a dead man walking, but if he suspects that we know anything, he will run with his tail between his legs even if he needs to leave all his men behind." added Lord Karstark putting a hand in Umber's shoulder while nodding at him. The Greatjon calmed himself and nodded back.

"So, how we proceed, my liege?" asked Lord Karstark.

"We will reach the Twins in three days, and I assure you my lords, that Roose Bolton will not make it alive. I will send a raven to Lord Glover and Lady Mormont, ordering them to gather half of the garrison in Harrenhal and march to the Twins at full speed. We lost three thousand men from the Freys, and we will lose all of the Boltons who don't see reason, so I will send another raven to Ser Rodrik Cassel with instructions of summoning the mountain clans, who are three thousand strong, and march them to Moat Caitlin, where they can be called when I see fit."

"What of the bastard of the Dreadfort? With his father dead he will call himself the new Lord Bolton. He was left in the North, and if a quarter of the reports are true, we need to get rid of him"

"Ramsay Snow will share the same fate as his father, Lord Karstark. When we received the news of the Hornwood, I sent word to Lord Manderly to gather a thousand men and to take him prisoner. He will die, and the Dreadfort will be rewarded to a more loyal family."

Both lords nodded their heads in approval.

"For now, we take Lord Bolton's head and take all his men prisoners. Those who abandon him and join our cause freely, will be spared and will prove their loyalty in the next battles. Those who fight us back will be put to the sword. I trust you both came armed as I asked."

"Aye" said both of them at the unison.

"Good. Olyvar, tell Lord Bolton that we have an urgent war council and that I need him here"

The three men poured themselves a glass of ale and waited for Bolton to arrive. He came in five minutes, accompanied only by two of his men, who waited outside with the Stark household guards.

"Your grace" vowed the Lord of the Dreadfort

"Lord Bolton, I'm glad you came soon, we have much to discuss. Please, take a sit"

"What can I do for you, your grace?" asked the Bolton, his pale eyes fixed in Robb

"I want the truth Lord Bolton, nothing more, nothing less."

"What truth your grace?"

"Your truth about this" said Robb, throwing the letter at him.

He read the letter. His face, who usually was expressionless, turned to something close to a shock expression, and his pale eyes met Robb's gaze again. _It doesn't matter what I say, they know._ Realising this, Lord Roose tried to get up and draw his sword, but at the same moment that his hand touched the hilt, he got his head severed by a swift swing of the massive greatsword of the Greatjon Umber, who despite his enormous size, was incredibly fast. Both Bolton guards entered in the tent after hearing the drawing of swords, only to get stabbed in the back by the Stark guards.

"It wasn't your right to execute him Lord Umber, even if he was a traitor we needed to prove it to our most sceptical bannermen" muttered an angry Robb

"He drew his sword against you, your grace. I was only doing my duty defending you."

Robb knew that he couldn't punish his bannermen only for defending him, be it in a battlefield or in the middle of his own camp. He calmed himself and spoke.

"Wake up and ready your men, with luck almost all of Bolton's men will be sleeping by now, so we will take them by surprise. Avoid as much bloodshed as possible and spare all of those who surrender, take his generals prisoners and put to the sword those who fight us."

Both lords nodded and left the tent.

In less than two hours, all the Bolton were dealt. Of the three and a half thousand who were loyal to Roose Bolton, only five hundred put up a fight or refused to follow King Robb. Half of the remaining Bolton men were passed to the command of Ronnel Stout and Kyle Condon, the other half was going to be distributed between Lords Karstark, Umber and Ryswell armies.

At first light, all the lords who were in the camp were summoned to council. Lords Umber, Karstark, Forrester, Flint of Flint's Finger, Ryswell and Locke of the North, lords Bracken, Blackwood, Tully, Mallister and Piper of the Riverlands, along with Brynden Tully, Dacey Mormont and Theon Greyjoy.

The King in the North spoke.

"As you are all aware my lords, the last night Roose Bolton was executed and those men who took arms against us were killed or imprisoned." Looking at Lord Ryswell, he continued. "I'm aware that some of you were blood tied with him, so I will show you why I gave such an order" And proceeded to read the letter.

"You trust more a letter who you don't even know who wrote it than one of your chief advisors?" An enraged Lord Ryswell barked.

"You will talk to your king with the respect he deserves, Lord Ryswell" a calmed Lord Mallister said.

"We all know the history between houses Bolton and Stark, and all of us are aware of the loyalty that house Frey process to their liege lord and king. We don't know who left the letter, that much is true, but they both had the reasons to do it. I support my king in his decision of punishing the traitors" Lord Blackwood added.

Surprisingly, Lord Bracken nodded his head in approval, along with the remaining northern lords with the exception of Lord Ryswell. The atmosphere calmed down a bit.

"I thank you for your support in this matter Lord Blackwood. I was going to offer Lord Bolton a fair trial in the eyes of the Old Gods, but he drew his sword when he read the letter, a more than sufficient prove that he was guilty. A man with a clean conscience has nothing to fear. My father taught me that the men who drew their swords against their liege lord lose their hands and the traitors lose their heads."

Even Lord Ryswell couldn't negate the logic of the argument, and all the other lords seem convinced by it, so for the time being, he will continue to follow his king. Hi nodded to his king, showing his acceptance.

"Your grace, you already punished the Boltons, but what we do now with the Freys?" said Lord Piper, glaring at Olyvar Frey, who was at Robb's back.

"That's the main reason I summoned you here my lords. I sent a rider to Riverrun to give word to Lady Mormont at Harrenhall. She will take half of the garrison and march to the Twins at full speed, leaving Lord Glover in command of our forces in the castle. Hopefully, we will arrive at the same time. With our men in both sides of the river, Lord Frey will suspect, and sieging the Twins would be tough and cost us many good men, so I need a plan to take the Twins avoiding as much casualties as possible."

The lords argued for a large time, and when the sun was high in the sky, they reached an agreement. When the men were ready, they started their slow march to the Twins, where Lord Edmure Tully was supposed to marry.

* * *

 **So here we are! I hope you liked it!**

 **I'm not a native english speaker, so I'm looking for a beta reader, if you are interested, let me know!**

 **I'll appreciate all the reviews you can leave me**

 **See you soon!**


	2. Yohn I

**I own nothing but the plot. All the characters and rights belong to George R.R. Martin.**

 **I'm back guys! and.. WOW. I didn't expect that many follows and readers in the first chapter of my first history. I'm so happy about it and I really thank you guys, you're amazing!**

 **First of all, I edited the first chapter. The plot remains the same in general, but I needed to fix some of the grammar and also some things that looked pretty weird and weren't explained correctly (Thanks for your review, jean d'arc)**

 **Let's go with the reviews!**

 **Supremus85: Right, at the moment he is at Robb's side, but I have plans for him, and I hope that you will like it!**

 **Feanor-dutch: Thanks for the praise buddy! I think that I corrected it, so I'll wait for your next reviews!**

 **jean d'arc: Thanks for your review mate, I edited the chapter and I think that now my intentions in writing it are more clear!**

* * *

 **Yohn I**

It was a cold day in Runestone. Indeed, as the Starks are fond of saying, winter was coming. The seven kingdoms have been at war for the last months, and to his shame, the proud and honourable knights of the Vale were not involved.

But he will not stand for it.

When the war started and Tywin Lannister sent his mad dog Gregor Clegane to ravage the Riverlands, he called his levies, thinking that Lady Lysa Arryn will not tolerate the Lannister pillage in her childhood home. But he was wrong. A fortnight after the conflict started, he received a raven by Lysa Arryn telling him to disband his levies and wait. Naturally, he obeyed, at the time, Robert Baratheon and Ned Stark were alive, and he thought that it will be them who called for war or retribution.

But then, the news of Robert Baratheon death, Ned Stark imprisonment and Joffrey Baratheon true parentage reached him. He waited for days. He waited for a raven ordering him to gather his men and march in the aid of the Young Wolf, whose victory in the Whispering Woods caught the realm in surprise. _Indeed Ned Stark's son_.

But when months passed, he grew tired of waiting. Many lords in the Vale remembered the days when Robert Baratheon and Ned Stark fostered with Jon Arryn in the Eyrie, and he was one of them. The memories of the Battle of the Bells and the Trident were still fresh in Yohn's mind.

He couldn't wait. He will not wait. Lysa Arryn was a mad woman who will destroy the integrity and honour of the Vale. So he acted. He sent ravens to all his allies in the Vale, and now all of them were here, waiting in his solar. Redfort, Waynwood, Melcolm, Hunter, Templeton, Coldwater, Grafton, Arryn of Gulltown and Hardyng had answered his call, numbering almost two thirds of the manpower of the kingdom. Only the Corbrays, the Lynderlys, the Belmores, the Shetts and some other minor houses ignored him, probably because all of them wanted one of theirs to marry Lysa Arryn and become the Wardens of the East, having a great influence in the next Lord Arryn.

He entered his solar and sat at the head of the table.

"Thank you all for coming my Lords. All of you know why I summoned you here. Westeros is at war, the Lannisters are fighting against the Starks, Stannis Baratheon got his army destroyed in the Battle of King's Landing after the Tyrells declared for Joffrey Baratheon, and now the only real army who can fight against them is the one of the King in the North." He paused for a moment and looked all the lords. He had their attention, and he will not waste it.

"When I received the raven declaring Joffrey Baratheon a bastard born of incest between Queen Cersei and the Kingslayer, I thought about supporting Stannis Baratheon's rightful claim to the throne, but I can't support someone who burns people alive for not following his foreign fire god. Therefore, the only available option to me is siding with Robb Stark, declaring him King in the North, the Trident and the Vale, for he is the only king that deserves my loyalty."

Some of the lords nodded their heads

"I'm sure that all the lords present remember Ned Stark fondly, as an honourable and just man, but he was never my friend, and we don't know if his son is like him. Why should I pledge my house swords to him?" told Lord Grafton, the lord of Gulltown..

"Weren't you paying attention Lord Grafton?" said Lady Waynwood, who despite his age, was still a formidable woman. "Even If you don't like the Starks or the Tullys, your other options are a cruel bastard born of incest or a religious lunatic who will burn you alive for not following R'hllor. The Starks ruled the North for eight thousand years, and have been Wardens of the North for the last three hundred. They ruled fairly, they are honourable and look after his people. If they did it in the biggest and toughest kingdom, why shouldn't they be able to do it with the Riverlands or the Vale?"

"Some years ago I travelled to Winterfell with my son Waymar in his way to Castle Black to enlist in the Night's Watch. I remember the Young Wolf as a good and honourable lad. I can't guarantee you that he will be a perfect king who commits no mistakes, but I'm sure that he is the best of our options" said Yohn firmly.

All the present lords took their time to think about all the options, until one of them dared to break the silence.

"There is only one thing that is clear my lords. If we stand idle in this war, the winner will come to us, asking why we didn't help them. If it's the Starks, they will ask why Lady Arryn forgot his blood. If it's the Lannisters, they will demand and denounce us for not aiding the Iron Throne. If somehow Stannis manage to beat them all, he will demand total submission along with hostages. The course of action is clear for me. I will stand behind Lord Royce and the Young Wolf." said Lord Hunter

"If the Vale goes to war for a just cause and for someone who deserves our loyalty like Jon Arryn and Robert Baratheon did, house Redfort will answer the call. My swords are yours to command Lord Royce."

"We all think the same my lords?" Asked the Lord of Runestone.

"Aye", and all the lords present in the meeting nodded their heads on approval.

"There is still one think to discuss my lords" interrupted Ser Harrold Hardying, who despite being newly knighted and without lands by himself, was the heir to the Vale, his grandmother being the sister of the old Lord of the Eyrie, and with this, the closer relative to Lord Robert Arryn. "We will go against the orders of the current Lady of the Vale, and we will leave our homes barely unprotected. If we want to go to war outside the Vale, we need to go as a whole."

"It seems that your fostering with Lady Waynwood wasn't for naught, Ser Harrold" muttered Lord Royce, provoking a nod in gratitude of Lady Waynwood. "You're right, we need to go as one and have a clear path towards the Riverlands. The Gates of the Moon will be opened to us, as Ser Donnel Waynwood is now the knight of the Gate after Ser Brynden Tully left his post to defend his homeland. But Corbray concerns me, he will stay with Lady Arryn if he can take profit for it. I will hear your opinions on the matter."

"Sending a raven or a rider to the Eyrie asking for permission will be pointless, we know that Lady Arryn will deny it. For our last reports, Lord Corbray is the chief advisor of Lady Lysa, and I'm sure that he is already preparing all the lords and knights who are loyal to her to prevent us to join the war. We should ride to the Vale with our army, showing our strenght, ask for parley and pray the gods that Lady Arryn hears us and avoids unnecessary bloodshed." said Lord Redfort.

"And if she refuses? Storming the Eyrie will be barely imposible, the fortress has never been taken, and even if we destroy the army of Corbray, we will be stuck with a long siege. And that is if we siege, I'm sure that many of us don't want the last son of Jon Arryn dying of hunger." bitted back Lord Grafton, who was barely convinced about joining the Young Wolf against the orders of her liege lord.

"We can't waste our time looking for all the possible options Lord Grafton" told Ser Templeton "We know what we must do. We know what is right to do. We should march as soon as our levies and men-at-arms are ready to depart. We should be able to raise around twenty thousand men without leaving our homes unprotected. They can raise less than half of it. If they don't want to be completely destroyed, they will side with us and we will convince Lysa Arryn to enter the war"

All the lords nodded in approval.

"Very well, if no one has to add anything, we begin the preparations"

* * *

The proud direwolf of the banner of house Stark stood in the walls of Harrenhal, with the mailed fist of house Glover at his left and the bear of house Mormont at his right.

Lady Maege stood silent, with a cup of ale in her hands. The She-Bear of Bear Island was gathering the men in order to march to the Twins, the home of the traitorous lack-wits of house Frey. She will go with three thousand men, hardened by the previous battles, leaving another three thousand between Harrenhall and the surrounding lands and keeps under the command of Lord Glover. A force who was not able to match the Old Lion should he march against the Riverlands again, but was sufficient to make him waste his time sieging Harrenhall with a real force, unlike at the start of the war.

She left her room and went to find Lord Glover. He found him talking to a blacksmith, who was apparently repairing his brestplate after he received a blow to the side by a Serret knight's morningstar.

"How are the preparations going, Glover?"

"They're almost done Maege. The lads are eager to fight, they grow impatient."

"That's good, they will need their spirit in the battles to come"

The King was marching with twelve thousand men to the Twins, half northerners and half riverlanders. Even with the three thousand defenders, they couldn't stand against a double assault versus a force five times theirs. It was a solid plan, but it left the southern borders of the Riverlands with a poor defense. Of the thirty thousand men that the Kingdom of the North and Riverlands has mustered at the moment, fifteen thousand was going to the Twins, three thousand at Harrenhall, six thousand between Riverrun and Pinkmaiden, and the other six thousand scattered between all the holds in the Riverlands. Even with the three thousand coming from the North, it was impossible to attack the south, where the Lannister-Tyrell alliance was more than sixty thousand strong. _We beat them bloody at Riverrun, the Green Fork and Oxcross, but Tywin Lannister retreated to the crownlands with fifteen thousand men, and the Tyrells have more than forty thousand men-at-arms gathered near the crownlands, without counting the Redwyne fleet and the twenty or thirty thousand levies they can still muster in their flowery palaces. I wonder how the King will deal with them. He has a good mind for war, but even the brightest mind of Westeros would not beat Tywin fucking Lannister with half his numbers_.

She looked at the men under her command, excepting some words before marching out of the castle.

"C'mon lads, let's kick some traitors arse! THE KING IN THE NORTH!" yelled the Mormont

"THE KING IN THE NORTH!"

"THE KING IN THE NORTH!"

"THE KING IN THE NORTH!"

 _They may be few, but they're as fierce and tough as the land that breed us._

And under the mists near the Gods Eye, the She-Bear started the tiresome march to the Twins.

* * *

 **So here we end this second chapter!**

 **Give me your thoughts with those reviews guys!**

 **I'm still looking for a beta-reader, so if anyone of you is interested let me know!**

 **See you soon!**


	3. Brandon I

**As always, I own nothing but the plot. All the characters and rights belong to George R.R. Martin.**

 **Heeeyo, I'm back guys! Let's go with the reviews!**

 **jean d'arc: Thanks for your support mate! I hope this chapter is of your liking!**

 **Feanor-dutch: You're right about the reason of the marriage between Edmure Tully and Roslin Frey in the canon. But still, Robb needs all the men he can rally, and the Freys have three thousand of them, and also a castle that holds a very important position. He needs it for having free passage to the North if needed be (Remember the mountain clans that are being reunited). If you're wondering why he is going with an army... it will be revealed soon :P.**

 **Obviously a man like Tywin Lannister will never do such an action without a backup. In this chapter you will have a hint about it, and the fate of the Kingslayer will be known in soon!**

 **Anime Princess: For the time being, Jon will stay at the Wall, and Robb will not name him his heir, at least for the moment.**

 **Let's jump into the chapter!**

* * *

 **Brandon I**

Ruling was boring. But he is the Stark in Winterfell, and he must rule. Since the war started and his brother marched south to rescue his father and sisters, he was all the day answering ravens, holding court and having his lessons with Maester Luwin, whose help was invaluable for him. _The old gods know that I will go mad if he wasn't here to help me_.

Even if he got tired or bored, he knew that he couldn't escape his duties, his father and mother taught him well, and both of their houses motto's were always in his head. _Winter is coming. Family, duty, honour. While my brother is out, I'm the hand that holds the North together._ He went out of his thoughts when Maester Luwin knocked the door.

"Enter"

"Good morning Bran, I hope you slept well, there is much to do today" said the Maester.

"Yes, I suppose Maester, I'll call for Hodor" answered Bran.

After breaking his fast, he went with Maester Luwin and Ser Rodrik to his fath- brother's solar and started to read the last raven's letter.

"It seems that my brother the king has work for you Ser Rodrik. You will go to Norreyhold and muster all the might of the mountain clans. Norreys, Burleys, Knotts, Flints… all of them. When you rally them you will take command and go south to Moat Caitlin. You will return to Winterfell when they cross the Neck"

"Very well my Prince, with your leave I will take twenty of our men-at-arms and start my journey" answered the old knight.

"Take everything you need and do your duty Ser" with this, Ser Rodrik was dismissed.

He broke the seal of the next letter, the mermaid of house Manderly, and continued reading.

"Lord Manderly send word that his men have cornered the bastard of the Dreadfort with the help of some men loyal to the deceased Lord Hornwood. He should be able to capture him in a matter of days"

"These are good news indeed, the sooner we deal with him, the better" told Luwin.

"Maester, who do you think that will be rewarded with the Dreadfort? There are already problems with the succession of the Hornwood lands if my brother doesn't legitimize Lawrence Snow, and Cley Cerwyn's death at the Whispering Woods left Castle Cerwyn without a heir. Too many castles for very few people."

"I'm sure that whoever the King choses will be worthy of the title, and there are many second or third sons of important families of the North, like the Umbers, or even you or Rickon. And considering the history of the castle, he may tore it apart stone by stone and divide the lands between the surrounding lords."

He nodded to the maester and looked at the last letter on the desk. It was from Jon. He wrote them once a week and told them their progress at the Night's Watch.

 _Dear Bran,_

 _I hope this letter reach you in a better mood than the last one little brother._

 _By the time you're reading this, I will be at the other side of the wall for the first time since I took my vows in front of the heart tree and become a member of the Watch._

 _Strange things are happening in the far North. The wildling villages near the Wall have been completely abandoned, and there is a rumour that Mance Rayder, the King-beyond-the-wall, has gathered one hundred thousand wildlings to attack the Wall and look for shelter behind it._

 _We don't know if this rumours are true. All our small ranging parties who were tasked about finding their supposed army have disappeared in the cold winds and snows._

 _Lord Commander Jeor Mormont is determined to find what is happening at the other side of the wall and has organised a great ranging party of three hundred men. This is almost all the manpower of Castle Black. Even Sam is coming with us. I don't know what is waiting us out there, but for the first time that I came here, I'm concerned. It's not that I question Lord Mormont's leadership, but the risks of this ranging are far too big._

 _We can't fight them brother, half of my brothers were thieves or cut-throats before joining the Watch, and if we come near a big party of wildlings, we will die for nothing and the Wall will be defenceless._

 _I know that Robb is fighting in the South avenging father, but I need you to talk to him and ask for help for the Watch. Should our ranging fail, a horde of one hundred thousand wildlings will invade the North, raping, killing and pillaging Stark lands._

 _I will write you as soon as possible._

 _With love,_

 _Your half-brother Jon_

The letter left Bran uneasy. He knew of the dire situation of the Watch, but he never thought that they would risk barely all the few able men they had in a ranging party against such numbers of wildlings. He showed the letter to Maester Luwin, who shared his preoccupation in the matter. He will send word to Hother Umber in the Last Hearth telling him about the situation of the Watch. Should the worst happen, Last Hearth was the first layer of defence in the Stark lands. When he was done, he started writing the letter for Robb.

When he finished, he remained silent for some time, making a silent prayer and looking outside by the window.

 _It's snowing. Summen has ended, winter approaches and we are having problems harvesting the last crops after all the men left for the South. I hope that Robbs come back soon, with Sansa and Arya. I miss them._

When he finished the letter, he allowed himself a little break and left with Summer and Hodor to the Godswood. He could find some peace seated in the roots of the Heart Tree, as his father did in a time he felt was long ago. After praying to the gods for the return of his brother and the end of the war, he returned to his duties as the Stark in Winterfell.

* * *

He woke up, missing the sweet smell of Shae in his nostrils. It has been a week since he married Sansa Stark, and obviously, she didn't want to share his bed. He couldn't make her responsible of that, he had been an ugly and deformed dwarf his entire life, and now he had a scar that covered half of his face, and he had no nose.

"Good morning wife"

"Good morning Lord Tyrion" replied Sansa, coldly as the ice that run through her veins

"Today I will be busy with my duties as master of coin. Do whatever you like my lady, but today is such a wonderful day, I'm sure you will enjoy walking around the gardens near the Red Keep"

"I'm sure I will"

Without feeling nothing more than sorry for his young wife, and the future that she was going to endure, Tyrion managed a sad smile and left the room. Outside of it, Bronn and Pod were already waiting him.

"It seems that you had a busy night my lord, considering that the sun showed up an hour ago" joked Bronn

"Aye, I was so busy enjoying my wife's delightful company" chuckled Tyrion, earning a wholehearted laugh of Bronn.

They walked through the corridors of the Red Keep for a while and broke their fast together. The fortress inside King's Landing looked enormous from the outskirts of the city, but you could get lost inside it, with the multiple corridors going from one extreme to another of the keep. After they finished, they started their way to the council rooms. When they finally arrived to it, Tyrion dismissed his squire and his bodyguard and entered the room.

"You're late Tyrion." A cold Tywin Lannister said, glaring at him.

"I beg your forgiveness father, I was busy performing my duties as a loyal husband and member of house Lannister. I don't want to interrupt or bother yourselves with it, so, what were you discussing?"

"I spoke with Lady Olenna and she agreed to pay half the costs of the wedding. How are you going to afford the payment of the other half?"

"Father, as you are aware, the coffers are empty. The crown is bankrupted. We are indebted to our house, house Tyrell, the Iron Bank and other minor houses of the Reach, the Riverlands and the Westerlands. And the city is starving, even with the supplies that are coming from the Rose Road." He paused for a moment, taking air. "I'm sure that our Master of Laws has already informed you of the last riots of Flea Bottom, I can't simply put more taxes to the smallfolk without making them revolt" ended Tyrion, looking at Garlan Tyrell, the new Master of Laws since their house agreed to a betrothal between Margaery and the king.

"You're in this council to provide solutions and money to your king, Imp, not to complain about what you must do" barked the Dowager Queen, receiving a serious look from his father.

"As much as it shames me to consider you my son, you're a lion, and a lion doesn't concern with the opinion of the sheep!" told Lord Tywin, with his voice in a higher tone than usual "If you need to implement a new tax to the peasants to pay your king's wedding, you will do it." _Sometimes I wonder if my father is utterly stupid behind that mask of ruthlessness_. "The debts owed to the houses of the Riverlands are forfeited, they are all traitors to us. An envoy of the Iron Bank arrived yesterday and asked for a meeting with either the King or the Hand, you will go and talk with him, as is your duty as Master of Coin. Tell him that the war will be over soon and that we will start the repayments when our enemies are defeated."

"And how can you be so sure that the war will end soon? Stannis Baratheon is defeated, but not dead, and Robb Stark still holds half of the realm."

"Robb Stark will be dead before the moon's turn. Did you really think that I will wait here idle? Some battles are won with swords and spears, but others are won with quills and ravens." He paused for a moment and ended the meeting, denying Tyrion the opportunity to ask nothing more.

Even after the dismissal, Tyrion remained seated while his father started writing letters. He stood there for a while, until his father looked up.

"I think I was clear with my dismissal" said Tywin

"I want to speak with you, father. It's important."

"Don't waste my time and talk. What do you want?"

"I'll tell you what I want. I want what is mine by rights. I want what is mine since Jaime took the white cloak. I want Casterly Rock." Told Tyrion with the lordliest voice he could do.

"How you dare, Imp? You are a shame to house Lannister, you will not inherit the Rock nor anything of me, be content that I arranged you such a powerful marriage. Jaime will be freed from the Starks and take his place as my heir. If you demand something of me again, it will be the last demand you do." With a cold and angry look, Tywin left the council chambers and left to the tower of the Hand.

 _Well, It was worth the try._ And Tyrion left the room, toying with a golden dragon throwing it up and down.

* * *

 **So here it is! Now we have opened the plot lines in the Vale, the Riverlands and showed up what's going on in the Wall. The next chapters will have all the action that those last two missed, starting with Robb Stark in the Twins and Yohn Royce going to the Eyrie, so I hope that I'm up to the challenge!**

 **Also, I have an important exam this friday, so I don't know If I will be able to update the fic before next weekend. I have the next chapter half done and it will be centered in Robb Stark and the Twins (Feel the hype, you know you want to know how things progress at the Twins), but I don't want to fuck it up just for posting it too soon. I hope you understand me!**

 **Have a nice weekend!**

 **See you soon!**


	4. Robb II

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. All characters and rights belong to George R.R. Martin.**

 **Há, surprised? I am too. I know that I said that I won't update until the NEXT weekend, but by the time I updated the third chapter, this was half done, and with the big support that I got on Friday (In one day you doubled the visits of the fic), I felt that It was my duty to update this as soon as possible.**

 **Before answering the reviews, I must say something: This is the first battle I write, so I don't know If you will like it. For me, it's the most important chapter of this fic, or at least, the chapter that could make you leave or love the history, so please, reviews!**

 **Feanor-dutch,** **adirtycanadian, thunder18** **: Thank you! I hope this chapter is of your liking aswell**

 **jean d'arc: Thanks mate, only one of them concerns me, and I have it on Friday, so hopefully I will have chapter 5 ready for saturday.**

 **Let's go with the story!**

* * *

 **Robb II**

After almost three days marching north, the Crossing appeared in the horizon. What was going to be a fast travel with three hundred men, transformed into a possible full-scale assault of twelve thousand. The army original plan was to be sent to Harrenhall and then to Maidenpool, in an attempt to liberate the last of the Riverlands castles who still were in the hands of the Lannisters. Unfortunately that wasn't possible, as he got the mysterious letter about the supposed treachery, letter that he now believed after the reaction and execution of Lord Bolton. It was almost dark when they were close to the Twins. The army stopped near the castle, barely out of range of the Frey's longbowmen who were posted in the walls. The doors opened, and two riders went out with a white flag. Robb stepped forward, followed by Theon Greyjoy, the Greatjon, Dacey Mormont, his squire Olyvar, Brynden Tully and his uncle Edmure. The riders introduced themselves as Jared and Lothar Frey.

"What brings the King in the North and his army to our home?" asked Jared, trying to be as polite as possible

"We came here for a wedding, but we had some trouble on the road, so as you can see, I increased the number of bodyguards that I will bring here. It's almost dark there, and I can't send them back, but I'm sure that Lord Frey wouldn't mind letting them camp here for a lone night" replied Robb with confidence.

"You take us for fools, oathbreaker?" yelled Lame Lothar "We expected a party of less than three hundred men, most of them lords and knights as witnesses to the wedding, and instead of that you bring an army of twelve thousand man!"

"He is your king you fool, talk him like this again and I will teach you some respect" Theon responded with his cocky attitude

"Shut up you fucking squid. I w-" Lothar started to talk when Robb silenced him

"ENOUGH! I'm not here to trade insults with you nor your siblings. I am here to honour a pact and restore my alliance with Lord Frey, not some twelfth or thirtheenth son. Go back to Lord Walder and tell him to open his gates, knowing that the bulk of my men will set camp here for a night. You have an hour to come back. Should you negate me the entrance, I will suppose that you turned your cloaks and burn your pretty bridge to the ground. Am I clear?!" an enraged Robb commanded, provoking Grey Wind to show his teeth in warning.

Both Freys nodded their heads and left to the castle, pale as the first winter snows.

 _Gods, shouldn't I know that not all of them are like these two, I would make my own version of the Rains of Castamere._

The Stark party turned their backs and left to their men, hurrying with their plan to take control of the Twins.

 **The night before…**

"Olyvar, I must speak with you. Take a seat"

"Y-yes, my king?" a scared Olyvar muttered, barely looking him in his eyes

"You have nothing to fear from me Olyvar. I have been thinking for the whole day and I trust you when you said that you had nothing to do with this letter or the treason of your house. You have fought with me since the war started and continued under my service when your kin deserted me. I want you to talk about all of your relatives. I want you to tell me who of them aren't treacherous bastards and deserve some kind of mercy and whom of them deserve nothing but death. I know that they're your kin, but if you don't tell me what I want to hear, all their lives will be forfeit."

Olyvar ordered his thoughts for a minute, and started to talk, praying forgiveness to the seven for what he was going to say.

"In all my time in the Twins, I was completely encircled by men and women who were my blood. But that was the only tie we had. Everybody does what they do for his own benefit, thinking that they will gain some kind of esteem from my father, and of all of them, only my sister Roslin and my brother Ser Perwyn, who was part of your personal bodyguard in the Whispering Woord, had a good heart and weren't trying to grab power. Ser Stevron was the only exception I knew. He would have been a good Lord of the Crossing, and I'm sure that he had plans to clean the Frey's name, but he died after the battle of Oxcross for his injuries. Of my others siblings and half-siblings I can't tell you who is honourable or not, but if I must blindly chose about who is aware of my father plans, I think that Ryman and Black Walder, Ser Stevron's son and grandson, will know the plans about the wedding. Hosteen is nothing but a brute, but he is the strongest fighter of the Twins, so I'm sure that he will be involved too." After his speech, Olyvar remained quiet, looking to the ground.

"Thank you Olyvar, I know that it's difficult for you, and I appreciate your loyalty. You know our plans, in fact, you helped us with them, and I will forever be grateful for that. I don't know if this will calm you, but I will try to spare all of the Freys that I can. When we got them, I will do a fair trial, and if they are found guilty, they will be offered the possibility of taking the black." Responded Robb

"I… I thank you, your grace" told Olyvar, barely holding his tears, fearing for the lives of his brother and sister.

"Go to your tent and rest as much as you can, tomorrow we end this and I need you by my side. Can you promise me that?"

"I swear it your grace" he took the dismissal and left the tent.

* * *

Her three thousand men started to feel tired due to the forced march of the last days, but in the end, they arrived to the destination. Under the cloak that the night offered, looking at the Stark camp at the other side of the River, they rested for a couple of hours and prepared for battle. After sharpening their swords, they hid their banners and waited for the signal. They didn't wait long _If this don't work, we will be pretty fucked._

The She-Bear took air and rallied the men.

"Today we end those who wanted to put us on our kness! Take the rams and follow me! For the North!"

"FOR THE NORTH!"

* * *

In less than an hour, when the moon was high, the doors of the West tower of the Crossing opened. Robb took his time before entering with five hundred of his men. They were still crossing the doors, being welcomed by Lothar Frey, when a rider came fast from the other side of the bridge.

"My Lord! My lord! We are under attack, there are thousands of enemies at the east gate!"

Lothar panicked. He wasn't a good battle commander, and his plans were to end the Young Wolf. He didn't expect to have to defend his home for the duration of the war. He swallowed hard and asked, trying to hide his fears.

"How many of our men are in the walls? Which banners have you spotted?"

"They have no banners my Lord, and if their armors show any coat of arms, they're impossible to identify under this moonless night. Only fifty of our archers are in the walls, too few to stop them"

Not knowing what to do, he looked left and right unconsciously, accidentally meeting the eyes of the Young Wolf, who had a calm expression in his face.

"Don't waste any time Lord Lothar, take your men and run to the aid of the east gate. Just hold them for the moment while I send for my men to come into your help, we will outnumber them and send them out." Robb said

He stood confused for a moment and thought. _I can't let him bring more men that us if we want to get rid of him. But our home is under attack, what the hell am I supposed to do? If I accept we will need to change the actual plan, but if I refuse he will suspect that something is wrong. Fucking gods…_

"My Lord? What are your orders?"

 _Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._

"My Lord?"

 _We will need to change the plan, defending our home is more important. I hope that father agrees with me._

"Very well. Run up and tell all our men to take their weapons and go to the east gate. Tell them that we're under attack and that I, as the only Frey down here, assumed command in the defence of our home."

"How many men do yo-"

"Are you fucking deaf?!" Yelled Lothar, a cocktail of nerves and angriness "Send word to all our men. I want the three thousand men-at-arms under this roof to be armed and ready in the east gate. NOW!"

The poor soldier rushed to the castle and gave the alarm, sending all the Frey men to defend their home from the mysterious invaders.

He looked back to Robb Stark and gave a small nod before running through the bridge.

* * *

They took the Freys unprepared. Of the three thousand men that charged to the eastern gate of the castle, less than a hundred were dead in the floor when the rams started hammering the doors. It wasn't that their archers didn't know how to pick a bow, but between the darkness of the night and their shields, almost all the arrows missed their marks or landed where they didn't were useful.

"C'mon men, take down the gate" shouted the intimidating Lady Mormont, her mace and sword waiting for blood.

The doors were almost broken, when the whole Frey army inside the Twins arrived. She could see that now more than four hundred archers were raining fire on his troops.

In a few more thrusts, the ram broke the gates, and the first wave of angry northmen stormed through them, meeting a weak shield wall formed by the Freys.

The clash of both armies was brutal. She knew that there was no honour in actual battle, but both sides fought with a hatred that she hadn't seen since the days of the Rebellion.

She parried a sword aiming to her neck, returning the favour to the soldier in the form of his mace smashing the poor fellow's head. She ducked, parried, hacked and slashed through all the men who were brave or stupid enough to face her. He knew that, if all was going as planned, his King was coming to her aid.

The fighting was getting tough. The men were starting to waver and the initial rush of the first charge was gone. She paused and looked around the battlefield. It was true that the enemy had suffered a lot of casualties, their shield wall proven useless against the charge of her berserkers, but now they were bleeding, her troops were perfect for charging and flanking at the enemy, turning the tides of a battle with a heavy blow, but they weren't good at holding positions or facing a wall of spears and pikes.

 _We can hold here for an hour, maybe two, but if the King waits more time, we will get slaughtered_

She blocked a blow coming for her and counter-attacked, beheading a Frey levy, when some ugly weasel-faced cunt came to her, wielding a classic sword and shield with the twin towers of the Freys emblazoned in it. While he had strong muscles, he wasn't so skilled, being no match for her, who had been fighting wildlings her entire life. He lasted less than two minutes before getting his ribs crushed under a heavy blow of her mace, taking the air out of his lungs, followed by the cold kiss of her sword into the neck.

She looked up, waiting for the next challenger, when the sweet sound of the horns filled the air and a direwolf howled at the wind.

The northern cavalry hit against the rear of the surprised Freys, crushing them. They were the hammer, and her men were the anvil. Before long, more than two thirds of the Freys laid dead or injured upon the bridge, some of their bodies being too crushed to even be recognised. Realising this, the rest of them threw their weapons in surrender.

When the fighting stopped, she advanced forward, meeting the King in the North.

"Lady Maege Mormont, I think that I have never been happier to see you" chuckled Robb, earning a wide laugh of the lady of Bear Island.

"Likewise my king. These bastards put up a good fight at the gates before you came. What took you so long?" answered the tired Lady.

"Well, convincing them wasn't difficult at all. Lothar Frey almost pissed himself when he heard of the attack and rushed with all his men there without thinking a lot about it. The gates were wide open to us, but getting the cavalry into position took more than expected. The Greatjon and Lord Forrester are already securing the Western Tower, where Lord Frey and his remaining offspring are. Tend to your men and rest my Lady, you have earned it. Ser Brynden will secure the prisoners made here"

The She-bear nodded in acknowledgement and did as bid.

Of the three thousand men that crashed the walls of the Twins, five hundred laid dead, most of them due to the arrow fire, and four hundred were injured. _Almost one third of the army. They would be more if the cavalry had taken longer._

Looking after the fallen, she came back to the big Frey knight who fought her at the gates. She looked at her left to the Freys who were being taken prisoners.

"Anyone of the lot of you know who the fuck is this one?"

"Hosteen Frey my lady, sixth son of Lord Walder. The ones at his side are his brothers Symond and Danwell."

She smiled and continued her job.

* * *

The doors opened, and he entered the room with Grey Wind by his side. He looked at the old man sitting in the chair and felt his expression harden. He was carefully watched by a bloodied Smalljon Umber. He glared at him and started to speak.

"Lord Walder Frey, you, your sons and grandsons are accused of high treason, plotting behind the back of your king and liege lord. You're accused of desertion and ignoring the calls of your liege lord. Your army is dead or imprisoned, as well as your sons who went out to fight. Spare me the time and I may show some mercy to the remains of your offspring."

"You're nothing but an oathbreaker. You spat in my house honor and expected me to lick your boots? You're as naïve as your father, but at least he had the brains to don't marry every whore he fucked. Take my head and be done with it." responded the Frey

 _At least he didn't try to lie to me. This makes things easier._

He pulled his sword out of the scabbard and rested the tip on the ground.

"I, Robb Stark, King in the North and the Trident and Lord of Winterfell, declare you guilty of the crimes of treachery and desertion. I denounce you and strip you and your sons of all their titles, holds and lands. Your daughter Roslin will wed my uncle Edmure, and should a second son be born of their union, he will be declared as Lord of the Crossing when he comes of age, passing the castle to more loyal hands. Rest well Frey, you will be executed tomorrow after the trial of your remaining sons and grandsons"

When the announcement was done, the hall exploded with cheers from the northmen, with the exception of Walder Frey, who was cursing at the same time that he was being dragged to the dungeons.

* * *

 **This is it guys! I reeeally hope that you liked this chapter, it has been the most difficult chapter that I've writen ATM.**

 **I know that I'm being a pain in the ass, but I really need you to post those reviews and post your opinions on the chapter!**

 **Have a nice week!**

 **See you soon!**


	5. Arya I

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. All the characters and rights belong to George R.R. Martin**

 **Heeeeyo! How you doing guys?**

 **Special thanks to all of those who alerted and reviewed this story, your support is everything I need to continue this story! Let's go with the reviews:**

 **BigWilly526: Thanks for leaving your review! I'm sure that Tywin will not be happy when he know what happened at the Twins, but he is Tywin Lannister, he will counter-attack!**

 **Supremus85: After killing more than 2/3 of the male Freys and with a trial coming for all the others, male and female alike, I think that giving the Twins to Perwyn (He is older than Olyvar) is not a good move. Sure, the man was loyal, but even if you had a bad relation with all your relatives, will you be blindly loyal to the man who killed or exiled them? I don't think so. The safest way is to grant the Twins to Edmure, whose future kids will have a claim to the Twins and Rosby by his mother, apart from Riverrun. Besides, I have other plans for both of them.**

 **DanielHimura: I share your feelings. In canon he is a good king, but in this fic Robb will remain as king, at least for now. I hope you still like it, I love Robb as much as Jon!**

 **Boramir: Theon is still at Robb's side!**

 **He-who-knows-nothing: I explained it all in the previous review answers, these changes are made in purpose. It's the good part of AUs.**

 **JAIMOL and jean d'arc: Thanks for keeping your support! Much appreciated!**

 **Feanor-dutch: Thanks for the suggestion! Much appreciated!**

* * *

 **Arya I**

She had been wandering through Westeros for months. She had escaped from King's Landing thanks to Yoren, the wandering crow of the Night's Watch, who promised her to bring her safely to Winterfell. But since then, she had been captive at Harrenhall, captive by the Brotherhood without Banners and now she was being dragged through the Riverlands by the Hound himself.

"How much until we reach the Twins?"

"Fuck off"

She snorted and remained quiet. _Sometimes I think that those are the only words he know._

They had followed the Green Fork for days, without no one troubling them. During this time, they managed to develop a strange kind of friendship. All started the day he found her practising her water dancing. He had laughed at her, arguing that such a swordplay was useless against armoured knights or heavy infantry, but she didn't care. She had seen Syrio Forel, the former first sword of Braavos, fight against four red cloaks and a Kingsguard holding his own.

After that day, the Hound started training her every night in less…knightly ways of combat. Some of his dirty tricks were completely useless for her, because they needed a considerable amount of strength, but as she heard from someone in King's Landing, knowledge is power.

Even if she hated it, she had enjoyed the time she had been traveling with the Hound.

In one of their first nights, they camped close to Fairmarket, when they were assaulted by four men wearing the three dogs on a yellow field of House Clegane. Four men she recognised instantly after her time in Harrenhall. Four men that she thought dead.

After a short weird conversation, one of the men she remembered as Polliver, dared to tell Sandor that he will bring him back to King Joffrey, so he could judge him for leaving the battle of King's Landing. It's pointless to say, that all the possibilities of ending this encounter in a peaceful manner, ended with the threat.

 **Flashback**

After arguing for some time about fucking whores and eating chickens, the fight broke out. She sneaked and hide behind a tree, while Sandor fought them.

After exchanging blows with two of them at the same time, he knocked out one of them with a heavy hit oh his sword's pommel, slashing the throat of the second one in a few moments.

Polliver and the other one attacked, unwilling to let the Hound recover. Both of them were poor with a sword, even she could see it. Polliver went breathless to the ground, with a blow to the ribs that would have killed him without the chainmail he wore. He switched his focus and tried to end the last one. He finished the third guy, putting his sword through the idiot's belly.

She looked back at Polliver, who was standing up and grabbing his blade. Knowing that Sandor wasn't looking at him, and with a desire from vengeance that was burning inside her guts, she took the sword of one of the fallen men and ran to Polliver, slashing at the back of his knees. She took Needle from him and looked him at the eyes.

"Is something wrong with your leg, boy? Can you walk? Do I have to take you?"

"What are you saying girl?" muttered a confused Polliver

"This is such a nice little sword. Maybe I poke my teeth with it."

With a surprised look in his eyes, Polliver's mouth filled with blood, Needle piercing his bare neck.

 **Flashforward**

"C'mon Sandor, we've been following the river for days. Are you sure that we're going the right way?"

"Shut it and look carefully girl" replied Sandor, signalling at the horizon.

In that moment, she saw it. The twin towers and the bridge of the Crossing.

It was almost dusk, but they continued advancing, the thoughts of a hot meal and a warm bed too tempting to stop now.

"Wait" said Sandor, alarmed.

"What? We're almost here!" replied Arya with a nervous tone

"Use your fucking ears. There is a battle inside the castle."

She focused his attention and concentrated. She could hear the clashing of swords. The cries of men dying. The curses of the ones who were fighting and the noise of the horses charging.

"We will wait here."

"The fuck are you saying Clegane? If there is a battle here we need to help my brother! He needs us!"

"We wouldn't arrive there in less than three hours, and if he is in the fight, he has a fucking army by his side. I will not risk my money after suffering you for weeks. We wait here, and if you say something more I will grab you from your feet and tie you to a fucking tree."

She grumbled and followed him to the near woods, knowing that arguing with him was pointless.

Laying between the tree's roots, she looked at the Twins, or where she thought the Twins were, the sounds of the battle coming from that direction.

 _Joffrey Baratheon, Cersei Lannister, Tywin Lannister, Ilyn Payne, Meryn Trant, Beric Dondarrion, the Mountain._

She fall asleep, vowing to kill Sandor in his sleep if something happened to Robb.

* * *

It has been a moon's turn since he and nine companions sneaked between the enemy army in Riverrun. The original plan of Tywin Lannister himself, required discretion and had a high risk, so he knew that it was logical that the Old Lion chose him, as he was the only Lannister who wasn't a complete idiot and Ser Kevan was required in future war councils.

Before Lord Tywin left Harrenhall, marching to King's Landing to fight the army of Stannis Baratheon, he and his men dressed as Tully's men-at-arms who were made prisoners of the Lannisters at the battle near the Golden Tooth, when Jaime Lannister marched to siege Riverrun.

When the northerners reconquered the castle, who had a skeletal garrison of less than fifty men, they were liberated along with other prisoners and moved back to Riverrun with Lord Bolton's men.

In less than two weeks, they were already taking guard inside the fortress, and when the Young Wolf left for the Twins, all those weeks of planning came to an end.

Taking advantage from the shadows of the night, he gathered his men and the plan went on. They were to enter the dungeons and liberate Jaime, Martyn and Willem Lannister, disguide them as peasants and leave the city before anyone could find that they were missing. They had two ways of getting out of the city. The first and easiest, was simply to exit through the gates. The second option was to smuggle them through a secret passage of one of the houses of some dead noble who had a window that connected to the river.

Due to the heavy presence of guards near the cells, they started a fire at the tents near the castle. They ran across the town and spotted the prisoner tower. After killing the two remaining men who guarded the entrance and stealing their keys, he and his men rushed inside. He looked left and right looking for any signal of his cousin Jaime Lannister or Kevan's sons.

He found the boys in one of the first cells and took them out of the cell. _Despite being there for weeks, they look rather well_. After freeing them, he continued to search with his party that was now formed by twelve members. He found the infamous Kingslayer in the deepest and darkest cell. He was covered in dirt and shit, and smelled even worse, but the reflect of his eyes fixed at the light of the torch, showed him that his spirit was unbroken.

"You look rather well cousin, pretty as a young maiden" chuckled Daven

"C-cousin Daven? By the seven, what are you doing here?" muttered a surprised Jaime

"Don't get confused by the trout in my chest, I'm still a lion to the core. Get up, we need to get you out of here." He threw some new clothes, a rusty chainmail and a short sword to Jaime, who started to dress, and the crew prepared for their way out. They were close to the entrance of the prison when a horn sounded the alarm. _Fuck, they found the guards_. Without wasting any time, they continued running out of the prison. At the same moment that they reached their destination, they saw a small party of fifteen guards making their way toward the building.

"Symond, Ser Vykkar, go with Jaime and the twins and guide them. Follow the plan and die of them if it must be, the rest of you, with me!" Unsheathing his sword, Daven and his men charged at the enemy with a fearless cry.

They cut the enemy ranks like a knife through butter. They were outnumbered by two to one, but all of his men were some of the best man-at-arms of the Rock. When all the Tully's men-at-arms drew their swords, four of them were already dead, painting the floor in red. After beheading one of them, he started trading blows with the most skilled soldier in the group, some knight with a black and white blazon who he identified as the coat of arms of one of the Vance branches. He couldn't deny that he possessed some skill with the blade, but he trained his entire life with men who were much better than him since he could grab a training sword. _It won't be long before I find an opening_. After five minutes who passed by a blur, he saw it. He exchanged some fast blows and faked a wide slash directed to his opponent's head, only to swung his sword down, aiming directly the sword's hand. His opponent dropped his sword and howled in pain, two bloodied fingers dropping to the ground. Before the pained knight realised what had happened, he smashed the pommel of his sword to the Vance knight's face, breaking his nose and stunning him. The last image he saw was Daven's sword aiming at his head.

He allowed himself a moment to catch his breath. Of the ten corpses who laid in the ground, only one was of his men. He looked up and smiled when he saw Ser Loren, one of his multiple cousins of Lannisport, beheading a Tully swordmen, the other one receiving a sword through the guts a few moments later. However, it was a bitter smile, because by the corner of his eye, he saw astonished as close to fifty elite Tully knights were charging at them, with Ser Mark Pyper at their head. _So this is how it ends. I'll see you soon, father._

Knowing that this was going to be his last fight, he rallied his remaining companions, roared a ruthless battle cry and charged with the fury of one hundred men into the enemy.

"HEAR ME ROAR"

"LANNISTER! CASTERLY ROCK!"

* * *

After months inside Riverrun's cells, he felt weak, and his arms and legs were sore, but he was a warrior, and one of the best in the Realm. It was good to have a sword in his hands again.

When Daven charged the incoming soldiers, Ser Vykkar lead them to some building inside the town, knowing that the doors will be heavily guarded. After five minutes walking through corridors that looked all the same, they ended in a room that connected directly to one of the rivers flowing around the castle. Symond sneaked the first through the window, telling them to wait his signal. It wasn't long before they heard his voice calling them outside, and the group eagerly followed his command. The five of them were now inside a small boat.

"What now?"

"You will regain your strength my lord" said Vykkar, giving him an oar. He chuckled and started roaming.

He looked back to the fortress he was escaping and heard his cousin's last battle cry, louder than all the others. _You gave your life for me Daven. I swear that I will avenge you._

* * *

 **So here is the first Arya POV! And now the Kingslayer is free, so at least Tywin got one out of the two things he wanted, even if he doesn't know anything at the moment. I must confess that killing Daven Lannister was a bit hard for me, as he is probably the only Lannister I like, but this is GoT and no one is safe! Hope you liked it!**

 **Reviews are much appreciated!**

 **See you soon!**


	6. Robb III

**I own nothing but the plot. All characters and rights belong to George R.R. Martin**

 **I only want to say that remember that this is an AU! I won't change the major plot that happened before my story starts, but, like in the previous chapter, I changed some secondary characters location.**

 **Thanks to those who alerted and reviewed this story, your support is much appreciated!**

* * *

 **Robb III**

Robb woke up and dressed himself. Today all the remaining offspring of Walder Frey will face trial. Under normal circumstances, he will not judge the daughters for the crimes of their father, but there were too many of them to just let them stay there. The Silent Sisters and the Faith will have a good boost of volunteers by the morrow.

He walked down the stairs and went to the Lord's Solar, where his bannermen were invited to break their fast and witness the trial.

He met Olyvar there, who had a very long face, talking with his liege lord, asking about any information about his brother. After taking the Twins, they searched for Ser Perwyn, but he was nowhere to be found, something that deeply unsettled him.

"Olyvar, come here."

He rose from his seat, vowing to Edmure, before coming to him. Before he could talk, Robb put an arm in Olyvar's shoulder and spoke.

"I won't force you to see this Olyvar. I know that you don't have a good relationship with many of them, but I won't make you see their execution. If you want to leave, do it"

"But my King, I'm your squire, I'm honour-bound to remain at your side and follow your commands" told Olyvar, lowing his gaze to the floor.

"In this case, I command you to get out of this room and enjoy the day with your sister, she will need you more than I do"

Olyvar managed a sad smile, vowed and left the room.

He turned his attention towards the table and ate fast, discussing with his uncle Edmure and the Blackfish about the wedding that was going to take place this night.

"Surely you must be jesting nephew. Why would you marry me to a Frey? You stripped out their lands and holdings, it's like marrying a peasant. Furthermore, If I must marry for an alliance, I would prefer to marry someone who at least doesn't look like a weasel."

"In matters of state, he is your king, Edmure, not your nephew" replied the Blackfish glaring at him

Knowing that this was a family conversation rather than a council of war, Robb didn't mind if his uncle talked to him as nephew or king. He looked at Brynden with a calm expression and a warm smile that seemed to calm the old knight.

"I know you don't like the idea to marry a Frey uncle, but don't worry at all. You know my squire Olyvar, I talked with him and he assures me that Roslin is all Rosby in looks. She is young and beautiful, probably the only one of Walder Frey's spawn, and he gives your family, our family, a claim to the Twins. Your sons will start a cadet branch of your house who will be second in power only to the Tullys of Riverrun. Without the possibility of allying with another kingdom, this was the best possibility for you."

Edmure looked at Robb in the eyes and knew that he spoke the truth, but he wasn't convinced at all. But deep inside him, he knew that his nephew's words, his king words, were true, so he abandoned the idea of arguing and nodded, finishing his food.

"Very well, I will send word to all the lords to come to the hall, the earlier we start the trials, the earlier we end them"

* * *

An hour after breaking their fast, all the lords had assembled in the hall to witness the trial. They took a tree stump as an improvised executioner's block and started to hold the trials.

King Robb Stark rose from his seat, flanked by his uncle and his great uncle, and after giving a short speech about justice and gods, declared the start of the trial.

The Smalljon brought the first prisoner forward.

Aenys Frey entered the room, gagged and with the hands tied. Robb looked at him in the eyes.

"Aenys Frey, you stand accused of conspiracy and desertion against the Kingdom of the North and the Trident. How do you plead?"

Almost crying and with a cracked voice, Aenys pleaded "Mercy my King, I'm innocent, I knew nothing about my father's and brother's treachery, I swear it"

"That's what you said, but when my men found you, you drew your sword, forcing them to apprehend you. Are you trying to tell me that an innocent man will act like you did? I don't think so"

Aenys turned pale, his mouth moving but making no sounds.

"You didn't confess, and I can't prove that you knew all you father's plots. However, you tried to attack my men, your King's men. I sentence you to take the black. At the morrow you will travel to Seaguard and take a ship to the Shadow Tower."

Aenys stood silent and was dragged out of the room. Another Frey who Robb knew very well, came in.

Lothar Frey, also known as Lame Lothar, entered in the room with his hands tied at his back. He lost an eye in last night's battle, and had a huge scar from the forehead to the left cheek.

"Lothar Frey, you stand accused of conspiracy and desertion against the Kingdom of the North and the Trident. How do you plead?"

"Fuck you oathbreaker. I shouldn't have expected less from a northern honourless heathen like you" replied Lothar, glaring at him with his remaining eye.

Without reasons to lose his temper, knowing that he had the upper hand, he asked again with a harder tone. "How do you plead?"

"I should have killed you at the same moment you crossed the gates" declared defiantly, showing a courage unknown to him.

"Very well." He rose from his seat and unsheathed his sword. He rested the tip on the floor and pronounced loudly. "I, Robb of House Stark, Lord of Winterfell, King in the North and the Trident, declare you guilty of the crimes of desertion and treason. Your punishment is death" He looked briefly to his side and nodded to Theon, who brought the tree stump forward. He could hear his father's words now. _The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword. If you are going to take a man's life, you owe him to look into his eyes and hear his final words_. He closed his eyes for a moment before continuing. "Do you have any last words?"

"Burn in the seven hells."

With a swift swing of Robb's sword, Lothar's head rolled through the hall, a small stream of blood coming out of his headless body.

"Send someone to clean this mess and bring the next one"

By the time the trials were finished, sunlight was all but gone. Almost all the Frey men chose to take the black, after swearing that they didn't know their father's plan or begging for mercy, only four of them admitted their guilt, facing the sword with dignity. The ones who were younger than thirteen were sent as wards to loyal lords, with instructions to train them in arms and ship them to the Wall when they came of age. The Frey ladies were all sent to the Silent Sisters, with the exception of Olyvar's sister Roslin and Shirei Frey, the youngest daughter of Lord Walder, who only was six name days old. To ensure her safety, she was betrothed to Alyn Blackwood, fifth son of Lord Tytos Blackwood and fourth in line of succession of Raventree Hall.

Once the last trial was done, Robb rose from his seat and looked to his right, where Walder Frey was seated. Knowing abouth the death of his sons and grandsons in battle was something he could endure, but seeing the Young Wold beheading five of his children proved too much for him.

He didn't offer any resistance when he was taken to the chopping block. He dropped to his knees and looked to the same floor that not long ago was full of his son's blood.

Without finding any pity inside him, Robb unsheathed his sword. "Do you have any last words?"

Walder looked up, meeting the King's eyes, and spoke. "You will lose this war boy. You can't win. You will see all your dear ones dead in front of your eyes before meeting the Stranger." He lowered his head and closed his eyes, accepting his fate.

"Maybe you're right, but you will not see it."

Robb took his sword down, severing the former Lord of the Crossing head.

* * *

"Why can't we go yet?" said Arya shaking his feet with nervousness

Sandor grunted and answered "We don't know what happened yesterday little girl. The Stark camp is still set, if it remains like this at midday, we will go there."

"I'm not a little girl!"

They waited the entire morning. After eating some two-day old dried meat, Sandor covered his face with a hood, knowing that he will be easily recognised, and advanced towards the camp. It took them four hours, almost sunset, when they reached the guards posted at the start of the camp, the white sun of the Karstarks in their shields.

"What brings a lone traveller and his son to the camp of the King in the North?"

"We need to talk to your King" told Sandor.

"King Robb is a busy man, he can't waste his time with worthless peasants" chuckled the guard.

Losing his patience, the Hound hardened his voice. "Do you know who are you talking to boy? This is Princess Arya Stark, sister to your king. Send for him or I'm sure that he will punish you, if I don't do it first."

The guards put their hands in their respective sword's pommels and looked to Arya, who had more the appearance of a young boy rather than a northern princess. In a few moments, they burst into laughter.

"That's indeed a good jest. Don't tick us off and leave at once, or we will kick the both of you out."

"Get out! I will go with my brother no matter what you say!" yelled Arya, who started to run onwards. The guards unsheathed their swords, when a voice stopped them.

"Stop this folly!"

Both guards looked perplexed in the direction of the voice, looking to a man with the Stark direwolf in his armour. The man approached to Arya and kneeled, looking at her at the eyes. After one minute inspecting her face, his eyes widened and muttered in a voice so low that only Arya could hear it.

"Arya Underfoot"

"Hallis?"

"Yes my lady, or should I say princess?" chuckled the middle-aged captain of guards, who had seen Arya do all kind of mischief when she was younger.

Without caring about being proper, Arya hugged Hallis, the first familiar face she had seen in months. A face that made her remember happier days with her family. She relaxed, all the months of captivity and uncertainty about if she was going to see her family again vanished, but the heavy weight she has carried for the lasts months made her feel tired, and she fell unconscious in Hallis Mollen's arms. He lifted her up and ordered to a Stark guard to give the news to the King with all haste. His eyes met the Hound, who still had his hood on.

"So, may I know who the man who rescued the princess is?"

Sandor just took his hood out, revealing his scars. Hallis frozened. Of all the people in the Seven Kingdoms, Sandor fucking Clegane returned Arya Stark to his brother.

"I never thought that I will thank something to a Clegane. I don't know how the King will react when he knows about this, but at least let me offer you a hot meal and a tent to rest. It's the least I can do for you."

Sandor nodded, and both of them returned to the camp, where the rumour of Ned's Stark younger daughter began to spread.

* * *

After the trials, the Lords moved to the Great Hall, where Lord Tully's wedding to Lady Roslin Frey was going to be held.

While both Edmure and Roslin prepared themselves for the joyous occasion, Robb drew his lord's attention and spoke

"My Lords and Ladies, tonight, after long months of war, we feast and celebrate!" Some Lords cheered at the announcement. "But the North remembers what this war has cost us. Before the wedding starts, I want to make a toast to all the northern warriors that gave their lives for freeing the North. To all the fathers, sons, brothers and friends who are now with the Gods!"

"For the sons of Winter!" shouted Lord Karstark

"For the warriors of the North" toasted Lady Mormont

"For the people of the Riverlands!" voiced Lord Blackwood

They cheered and laughed for a while, disconnecting from the war and his hardships. Eventually, the Greatjon and his first son and heir, started to sing a song, composed by themselves after the plunder of the Westerlands, with almost all the Lords chorusing them.

 _Now is the time, Northmen_

 _You can see our vengeance is nigh!_

 _So when Winter comes again_

 _Sharpen your blades, raise them high!_

 _Raise up your swords!_

 _RAISE UP!_

 _Reap the glory of the land_

 _And the enemy will tremble_

 _When they see our banners raised!_

 _Just as we plundered golden mines and wheat_

 _Now they will see us_

 _Cut our chains!_

 _Raise up your swords!_

 _RAISE UP!_

 _Defenders of the land_

 _Triumphant North and Riverlands,_

 _Our land will be bountiful again_

 _So destroy the enemy_

 _Their conceit has sentenced them to death!_

 _Raise up your swords!_

 _Raise up your swords!_

 _Raise up your swords,_

 _Defenders of the land!_

 _Raise up your swords!_

The song was met with loud cheers from the hall. However, the doors opened suddenly, and a breathless Stark soldier entered the hall.

"What is the meaning of this, soldier?" voiced the Greatjon.

Ignoring the Greatjon, the soldier went directly to the King, kneeling in front of him. "My King, Hallis Mollen sends me. He says that a stranger has delivered Princess Arya."

Robb rose from his seat, his eyes wide. Without hesitation, he bid the soldier to stand up and rushed through the door.

* * *

 **There it is! About the song... well, I'm from Catalonia, a region inside Spain, and this is a remix of a metal cover of our anthem, and I really wanted to adapt it to this story :P If you want to hear it (trust me, you will like it) just search in youtube "Els Segadors - A Sound of Thunder"**

 **It's possible that from today, updates will take a few more days, I can't keep updating this story every two or three days, at least for now. I hope you understand me and enjoy this fic.**

 **See you soon!**


	7. Yohn II

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. All the characters and rights belong to George R.R. Martin**

 **Hi guys! It's monday, and everybody hates fucking mondays, so I hope that this chapter raise up your spirits!**

 **As always, thanks to everyone who reviewed and followed this story, your support is amazing**

* * *

 **Yohn II**

Two weeks ago, almost two thirds of the Vale nobility gathered at Runestone to discuss the possibility to join the war. After some arguing between the Lords, all of them agreed to enter the fray at Robb Stark's side, declaring him the loyalty of the Vale. However, before making it official, they decided to go to the Eyrie, in a last attempt to make Lysa Arryn see reason, as she was the only person in the Vale who could call all the Vale Lords to war, bringing an hypothetical forty thousand strong army.

Now he was leading an army of twenty two thousand men towards the Gates of the Moon, where his cousin Nestor would receive them, before sending a small diplomatic party to the Eyrie.

If Lysa Arryn was a sane woman, all the Vale Lords supporting the idea of entering the war would go up to the Eyrie to parley with her, but sanity wasn't one of Lady Arryn's strengths, a fact he will need to discuss with his fellow countrymen once they arrive to the Gates of the Moon.

In a couple of hours, they were at the Gates of the Moon. Yohn and the most powerful lords stepped forward, mounted in their horses.

"Who approaches the Gates of the Moon?" yelled a knight.

"Lord Yohn Royce of Runestone, with his companions Lord Horton Redfort of the Redfort, Lady Anya Waynwood of Ironoaks, Lord Eon Hunter of Longbow Hall, Lord Gerold Grafton of Gulltown and Lord Albert Melcolm of Old Anchor."

After a short silence, Yohn recognised his cousin's voice. Well, probably all the Vale heard the strong commanding voice of Nestor.

"Open the gates!"

Yohn and his allies passed through the giant gate, followed closer by his men. They dismounted and met the Steward of the Vale for the last fourteen years.

"Cousin, it has been too long" said Nestor, welcoming his cousin with a tight embrace

"Indeed Nestor, I wish it was in better circumstances" replied the Lord of Runestone

Nestor frowned and nodded, leading the party inside the keep. An urgent council was immediately convoked, requiring the presence of all the lords, heirs and knights who brought men to the cause.

* * *

Yohn Royce, chosen as commander of the army, presided the council.

"Very well my Lords, I know that we are all tired of the march, but we must decide our next move. I'm sure that Lady Lysa has already spotted our army here, so I propose to send a small diplomatic party up to the Eyrie"

The lords talked between them for a while, discussing who should be in the party. Eventually, Ser Mychel Redfort, fourth son of Lord Horton, raised his voice.

"My Lords, we all know the questionable sanity of Lysa Arryn. We can't risk any harm coming to our best battle commanders nor lone heirs of our most ancient houses. While we can't alienate Lady Lysa by sending someone of low birth, I'm the fourth son of Lord Redfort, and the betrothed of Lord Royce only daughter. Furthermore, Ser Lyn Corbray knighted me himself, so if he is up there, I'm sure that no harm will come to me, something that can't be said for the rest of you. I volunteer to lead the diplomatic mission to the Eyrie."

The hall fell silent. A mix of pride and fear mixed in Lord Horton's face. Lord Royce watched for a minute, and before he had time to dismiss the idea, Eustace Hunter, second son of Lord Hunter, spoke.

"There is wisdom in your words, Ser Mychel. If the council accepts it, I will come with you. Let it be known that the Hunters are involved with the cause."

Lord Royce looked for Lord Hunter and Lord Redfort, receiving nods from both of them. Standing up, he made his opinion clear.

"You both honour the Vale with your judgement and courage. Four of my best swords will accompany you. If someone is against the plan, now is the last opportunity to voice their opinion." Some Lords staid impassive, while others just nodded at Yohn. "Very well, I will write a letter and you will give it to Lady Arryn. You leave at dawn."

* * *

The next morning, Mychel, Eustace and the four Royce guards packed all the necessary things to travel to the Eyrie, and without wasting any time, they started moving. However, before going up to the Arryn castle, Mychel went to Eustace and spoke with him.

"Ser Eustace, can you give me a moment of privacy with our guide?" asked Mychel, looking at the young black-haired woman who was readying the mules that will took them up to the Eyrie.

"I think that barely all the Vale knows about your romance with Mya Stone. Go with her, I'm sure you have so much to talk, but little time to do it. I can give you half an hour before Lord Royce suspects anything." Chuckled the Hunter

Mychel smiled and nodded to him, turned his back and approached to Mya.

"Mya"

"Do you need something from me, milord?

"Mya… I didn't want this. You know I loved you."

"Loved? So you and your betrothed are smitten with each other? I'm glad for you" spitted the first of King Robert's bastards "But at least don't lie to me saying that you didn't wanted it."

Mychel was taken aback by the coldness in her voice. He knew that deflowering Mya just because she was a bastard had been a mistake, even if he loved her back then, and once his father took notice of it, forbiding the idea of marrying his youngest to a bastard and knocking some sense in him.

"Mya, I know that nothing that I say will make you forgive me, but I just wanted to say that I'm sorry about how I acted in the past. I care deeply for you, but I was foolish thinking that my father won't oppose to the idea of our marriage. Perhaps when my mission is done in the Eyrie, we can talk properly. Let me amend some of the wrongs I did."

Mya softened a bit after his words. She was hurt with him after knowing that he was betrothed with Ysilla Royce, but deep inside her, she knew that the world worked like this. She did a small, sad smile and responded.

"Perhaps"

Without further delay, he went back to Ser Eustace, and they made their way towards the Eyrie.

* * *

In a frightening way, it was beautiful. It's true that only one bad step was needed to suffer a 600 feet fall before your body crashed to the floor, but the landscape surrounding him was completely stunning. He could see the whole army camped at the Gates of the Moon and the mountains in each side of them. He even managed to look further, where the lands of his father were.

After a couple of hours, they arrived at the entrance of the Eyrie. A knight he couldn't recognise received them.

"Good day to you sers. I'm Ser Lothor Brune, a knight under Lord Baelish service. What brings you and your men to the Eyrie?"

With a surprised look, Mychel answered "My name is Ser Mychel Redfort, fourth son of Lord Horton Redfort, and my companion there is Ser Eustace Hunter, second son to Lord Eon. We come here as envoys from the Lords declarant to discuss terms with Lady Lysa Arryn."

The knight grinned and took them in.

When they entered, the moon's door was already open, and Lady Lysa was in the Weirwood throne, feeding Robin Arryn, a sight that completely disgusted him. He could see a man with a mockingbird pin at Lysa's left. The hall was full of other knights and lords, and he could recognise Jon Lynderly, lord of Snakewood, from previous visits to the Eyrie.

Eventually, Ser Brune spoke.

"Lady Arryn, I bring Ser Mychel Redfort and Ser Eustace Hunter, envoys of the traitor Lord Yohn Royce."

Mychel was taken aback with the bold declaration. He realised that this mission was more dangerous that he expected, but he had to complete it, so he stepped forward and, after respectfully vowing to Lady Arryn, spoke.

"My Lady of Arryn, I'm here on behalf of Yohn Royce and numerous other lords of the Vale that wish to enter the war. We are not here to harm you or yours, we only wish for your blessing to enter the conflict. All of Lord Royce's requests are in this letter." He handed the letter to Ser Lothor, who ignored him.

"And why should I give it? You're only putting my son in danger! The knights of the Vale belong to the Vale, when they can protect their liege lord! I command you to dismiss your men and bring Yohn Royce and the other lords to the Eyrie to answer for his crimes against my son!"

 _Gods, this woman is truly mad_

"My lady, your kin is fighting a bloody war versus the Lannisters. Let us go and fight in your name"

"Your lady has already told you what to do Ser Redfort" replied the man with the mockingbird pin.

"And who are you, my lord?"

"My name is Lord Petyr Baelish, Lord of Baelish keep and husband-to-be of Lady Lysa"

Mychel was speechless. He remembered the Baelish name from the lessons with his master, they were a small house in the Fingers. But how a lord with so little power could be able to marry the Lady of the Vale? Furthermore, something about the man unnerved him. His eyes held something he couldn't describe but that unsettled him, and he always had a small grin in his face that sent a cold shiver through his back.

"In this case, I think that congratulations are in order." He stopped for a minute, waiting for a reply that didn't come. "However, I must insist. Lord Royce and all the Lords that are camped at the Gates of the Moon are determined to enter the war. They only wish for your blessing to fight in your name, but I fear that should you refuse, they will just march to war without your consent."

"How you dare to threat us in our own halls?" yelled the mad woman

Chaos erupted in the hall. All the knights and lords drew their steel against him and his small party, who drew their swords in responde. He shouted desperately.

"This is madness! We're here as enjoys in good faith! I didn't threaten you nor Lord Rob"

"You come with an army to my doors threatening my son's claim to the Eyrie, trying to usurp him as Lord of the Vale and Warden of the East. You think that I don't know that you're plotting to put this Hardying boy in the rightful place of my son? You refuse my orders to disband your armies and continue defending the traitor of Lord Yohn. I will not allow it. You're a traitor like all of them, and now you will see what we do with traitors. Throw him to the Moon door."

"Yes mommy! Make the bad man fly!"

He and his men tried to retreat, but Ser Lothor Brune stood between them and the door. Two Royce men-at-arms charged at him, but were torn to pieces by the greatsword of the knight. He found himself locked in combat with Lothor, who was clearly more skilled with a blade that him, years of experience in his shoulders. He saw the Royce men get killed, with numerous swords impaling them. Being focused with parrying and blocking the heavy swings of his adversary, he didn't realise he was slowly going towards the moon door.

By the corner of his eye, he saw Ser Eustace getting knocked out by Jon Lynderly, who ordered his men to carry him to the sky cells.

His arms were aching, a dozen of small cuts in them, and Brune continued his flurry of strikes. He knew he couldn't win this fight. With all the force he could gather, he swung his sword aimed to the Brune's neck, who easily blocked him and punched him in the face. The sword slipped through his fingers, and before he could react, Ser Lothor stabbed him in the knee.

He knelt, feeling the air coming from the Moon door right at his back. He looked up to Ser Lothor's face, seeing the man's scarred face. He closed his eyes and waited for the final blow.

"Look at me at the eyes boy."

Mychel shuddered and opened his eyes, seeing a cruel grin on the knight's face. He opened his mouth to talk, but before he could say anything, the sword came down. It pierced his mouth, throat, lungs and heart. With a shocked expression in his face, Mychel last thoughts were about the only person he ever loved.

 _Mya_

Blood came out like a fountain from the young knight's mouth. Unwilling to see more, Lothor kicked Mychel's lifeless body through the Moon door, who fell without making any sound.

* * *

At the camp in the Gates of the Moon, Lord Royce and Lord Redfort were already planning the march accompanied by Lady Waynwood and Lord Hunter, discussing how they will proceed once they enter the Riverlands. They were interrupted when a Melcolm soldier yelled, raising the alarm.

"Look up! Someone is falling from the Moon door!"

The lords turned their back and froze at the sight of the man falling, their eyes fixed at the figure who was slowly making his way to the floor. When he clashed against it, the whole camp fell on silence.

Lord Redfort ran to the unknown lifeless body, with Lord Eon close behind. Yohn looked at Anya, who only nodded at him, reading his thoughts. If the body was of Ser Eustace or Ser Mychel, they would need to assault the Eyrie, something he tried to avoid by all means.

He sent a silent prayer to the Old Gods and rushed behind Lord Hunter, wanting to know the identity of the fallen.

* * *

 **So here we are! It seems that Lady Lysa is as mad as always, and Baelish is here to screw things up. I hope you didn't think that I would just send all the 30-40k men of the Vale to Robb's aid, right?**

 **I hope you enjoyed it! Reviews are much appreciated!**

 **See you soon!**


	8. Tyrion I

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. All characters and rights belong to George R.R. Martin.**

 **Heeeyo! I'm back with another chapter!**

 **Thanks to those who reviewed and followed this story, your support is much appreciated! Hope you enjoy it!**

* * *

 **Tyrion I**

Joffrey's wedding was going to be the event of the century. With so much money and food wasted in it, one would think that the crown's coffers were full of gold and that the war was inexistent. But the reality was very different.

At the start of the war, his brother and his father managed great victories, conquering almost all the Riverlands with the exception of Seagard, the Twins and Riverrun, the last one being under siege. But all changed since the Starks came from the North. They broke the Siege of Riverrun, put his brother in chains, liberated the Riverlands and plundered their homes. This war has costed them much, and that is if they survive it.

But little of that mattered to 'King Joffrey of Houses Lannister and Baratheon,', and neither to the Tyrells. They needed their fucking pompous wedding to show everybody how rich and powerful they were, while their armies stood idle. And here he was, as Master of Coin since Baelish vanished, in another boring meeting of the Small Council.

"How fare the last preparations of the wedding?" asked Ser Garlan, newly appointed Master of Laws. Even being a Tyrell, Tyrion couldn't deny that the man was efficient. The crime had diminished in the most conflictive parts of the city, like Flea Bottom, and he had restored the amount of Gold Cloaks back to five thousand.

"It will be the event of the year, Ser Garlan. An army of dancers, singers and buffoons will entertain all the guests, seventy seven dishes will be served, and the pigeon pie will be the icing on the cake." Answered Tyrion, with some irony in his voice.

Without noticing the irony, Garlan smiled and nodded to Tyrion. They were interrupted as the doors were opened, revealing the bald head of Lord Varys, Master of Whisperers.

"I'm sorry for being late my lords, but my little birds sing the most troublesome of the songs about the war"

"And pray tell, what are these news Lord Varys?" asked Tywin with his voice of iron

"After Lord Hoster's funeral, Robb Stark marched to the Twins to his uncle's wedding. However, in some point between Riverrun and the Crossing, he executed Lord Roose Bolton accusing him of treachery. When he arrived to the Twins, there was a battle inside the castle. All the male Freys with the exception of the Young Wolf's squire were put to the sword, and the woman's were sent to the Silent Sisters."

Tywin clenched his fists and smashed them both to the table, surprising all the members of the Small Council with the exception of Maester Pycelle, who has witnessed Tywin loosing his temper before, back in the days of the Mad King.

Knowing that he needed to choose his words carefully, Tyrion spoke. "Father, I can assume that you had planned something with Frey and Bolton. Do you see fit to enlighten us?"

His father glared at him with pure hatred in his eyes, but in the end, he told his plans.

"Under the pretext of wedding Lord Edmure to Lady Roslin, the Freys were going to betray the Starks with the help of the Boltons, as both of them were looked down by the so called King in the North. But it seems that these idiots were useless even for that."

"You were going to break guest's rights? Father, even these laws are over you. These are the laws of the Gods."

"We weren't going to break anything, Imp. It was going to be the Freys, not us. Of course they got some assurances from me, but I never ordered it to be in the same wedding. But now it doesn't matter, we can end the war even without them. We have the armies of the Reach, fifteen thousand Lannister soldiers between King's Landing, Rosby and Duskendale, and the remaining leavies of the Crownlands. And I have one contact inside Robb Stark's people. Giving the right situation, the Young Wolf is done"

Surprised, Tyrion couldn't keep his curiosity. "Who?"

"This isn't your concern." Tywin paused and took air. "For the time being, your unique preoccupation will be the wedding. Stannis has less than three thousand men in Dragonstone. His sellswords have abandoned him and the Stormlords are dispersed, only the lords of the Narrow Sea are with him, and their naval power is greatly diminished after the Blackwater, it's time to end this. Kevan will take Dragonstone and kill Stannis, putting an end to his lies and claim. Once we end him, we will concentrate on the Stark boy. Randyll Tarly will take fifteen thousand men towards Antlers, and camp north of it, preventing raids into the Crownlands, while Mathis Rowan assembles an army ten thousand strong and takes the Stoney Sept, giving us a foothold in the Riverlands."

"My Lord Hand, I have more news that you would like to hear."

Tywin raised his eyebrow and nodded at the eunuch.

"Two days ago, Ser Daven infiltrated inside Riverrun's dungeons and freed Jaime, Willem and Martyn Lannister. A fight broke inside the city and Marq Piper slayed him, but not before he killed Ser Ellery Vance of Atranta. However, Ser Jaime and the twins have vanished in the Riverlands and no one is able to find them."

Tywin smiled and responded. "Ser Addam Marbrand will lead a company of two hundred men to search my son. Have your little birds focused on finding them, if you got any information and hide it to me, your head will end in a spike in Maegor's Holdfast." With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the council.

Tyrion was the last to get up from the chair and proceeded to leave, stopping at front of the door. "So this was your plan regarding Jaime"

"Your brother will be back soon and retake his duties as my heir. That's all that matters" said Tywin, his voice cold.

Unwilling to argue with his father, he left. He met Pod and Bronn near his own chambers.

"Hey Imp, how did it go?" asked Bronn

"Well, it seems that my brother has escaped from captivity, but my favourite cousin is dead" responded Tyrion, unsure about feeling happy for his brother or sad about his cousin "But I don't want to talk more about the matter. Did you do what I told you?"

"Aye" was the single response of the man

Tyrion looked at him, annoyed. "And?"

"Well, the little shit has more wealth than you could ever imagine. We looked around all his brothels and found chests filled with gold and jewels in the most strange of the places, along with some books with his accounts. I'm not a highborn cunt, but even I can see that this cunt is the principal reason about why the crown's coffers are so empty. I left the books in your chambers, I think you would like to read them."

"You're right. I'll stay there until I finish them, you and Podrick can have the day off."

"C'mon Podrick, the bitches are waiting your magic dick!" shouted Bronn, laughing loud, making Pod blush.

Tyrion chuckled at them and went inside his chambers, where he would look how much money had Littlefinger stole from the crown.

* * *

They left Craster's Keep roughly a week ago. A strange man for a strange land. Not that he was going to judge how people survived at the other side of the Wall, but knowing that a man was fucking his own daughters repulsed Jon. _But I couldn't say anything. Sometimes Craster was the difference between life and death for the Rangers._

Now they were in the Fist of the First men, a hill in the Haunted Forest. After making camp, he went with Edd Tollet and Grenn to scout.

"I will freeze my balls out there" said Edd, with his characteristic grim humour

"You have been freezing your balls since you enlisted the Watch Edd, and you haven't stop complaining since then" chuckled Grenn, earning a laugh from Jon

"Fuck you Grenn. You know as much as I do that this ranging will end badly. I wonder what plan has our Lord Commander should be find the Wildlings. Or other things."

"Now you believe in child tales Edd? In snarls and grumpkins? You're better than that" chuckled Jon

"I'm not saying that, but the Haunted Forest has a wildlife that isn't found south of the Wall. Polar bears, shadowcats, direwolves… If I can choose, I prefer the safety of the Wall, were the only thing that scares us is Thorne."

Jon and Grenn laughed wholeheartedly at the remark. "So Edd Tollet has found humour beyond the Wall, maybe he is made to live out there" told Grenn, a tear dropping through his cheek, trying to hold his laughter.

Their laugh was interrupted with the sound of a horn.

"One blow. Rangers returning? Who the fuck went out apart from us?" said an incredulous Edd

Before Jon could respond, the horn sounded again

"Wildlings."

They ran to the camp as fast as they could. When they arrived, all the Black Brothers were on the highest point of the Fist, doing a semicircle.

"Lord Commander! We heard the horns, how bad is it?" told Jon, trying to recover the air in his lungs

"Look for yourself Snow"

He approached to the cliff and his jaw dropped. A gigantic army of wildlings was in front of them. He never saw something like that before, and worst of all, he could see giants and mammoths in the host that by his calculations was at least twenty thousand strong. He turned back to Lord Jeor.

"Lord Commander, we should retreat, there is no way we can defeat them."

"Remember your place Snow, you're still my steward and not the other way around." He paused for a moment, and Jon lowered his head in acknowledgement. "We're not going to win boy. I know that. You have seen the host coming from the front, but there are two minor host of ten thousand coming from the left and the right. We can't retreat to the Wall, not all of us. I sent Samwell and ten rangers, including your friends Grenn and Edd, back to the Wall, so they can say what happened here, and I want you to go aswell." He unsheathed his Valyrian steel blade and gave it to Jon. "Longclaw has been in my family for hundreds of years. Take it back to the Wall and leave it at Bear Island. My niece Dacey will be worthy of it. And this is an order Jon, not a request. Now go."

Unbelieving what he was hearing, Jon took the sword. "It has been an honour Lord Commander" and vowing to fulfil Jeor last wishes, he ran without looking back.

* * *

With Qhorin Halfhand at his left, the Lord Commander spoke.

"Night gathers, and now my watch begins." All the Black Brothers drew their swords and chorused him.

"It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory. I shall live and die at my post." He could see that the wildling horde was closing the gap, shouting at them.

"I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men." The wildlings were now charging at them, their weapons raised in the air.

"I pledge my life and honour to the Night's Watch, for this night and all the nights to come!" And with an epic roar, Jeor Mormont and Qhorin Halfhand charged towards the enemy, followed by all the remaining members of the order.

Both groups clashed, and even with the inferior numbers, the Night's Watch pulled the Wildlings back at first. But it didn't last for long. Only the most skilled ones could survive for more than five minutes, the sheer superiority in numbers was simply too much. Eventually, only Jeor Mormont, Qhorin Halfhand and Karl Tanner were alive, when suddenly the Wildlings stepped back and encircled them, for the confusion of the former three. Five of the wildlings advanced, probably the leaders of some of the Clans.

A man with an armour made of bones and the skull of a giant as helmet stepped forward, and pointing his giant club to Qhorin, he talked.

"When our childs don't behave, we tell them that Qhorin Halfhand will come and take them, so they fell asleep full of fear. It seems that after today, we will need something different." Without more advertisement, the wildling charged towards Qhorin.

"You will need a thousand years to be able to kill me Rattleshirt!" Qhorin raised his sword, accepting the duel.

They traded blows endlessly, both being formidable warriors of a hundred battles. Rattleshirt was way stronger than Qhorin, but the Black Brother was more fast and skilled. Their dance of death looked like it would last forever, when Rattleshirt's club hit Qhorin in the chest, knocking the air out of his lungs and forcing him on his knees. "You fight well for a crow. Now die as the kneeler you are." Rattleshirt raised his club and, aiming at Qhorin's head, he used all his strength to bring it down.

Without being able to step aside of the club, Qhorin took his sword and raised it with all the force he could do, piercing the Wildling's neck and killing him instantly. But it was late. Rattleshirt's club smashed against Qhorin's unprotected head, cracking his skull and sending his brains to the snow.

Both warriors fell lifeless to the ground, leaving both wildlings and Night's Watch brothers astonished about what they had seen, until a bald wildling with his face full of scars talked. "A warrior's death for both of them. Now is your time old Crow" and smirking at Jeor, he took his battle-axe.

Before Jeor could raise his sword, he felt the cold steel of Karl Tanner's dagger in his neck. Blood sputtered from his mouth, his vision blacked, and the old Lord Commander fell. Tanner smirked, looking at the Lord Commander lifeless body, and looked up to the Thenn, but where he expected a friendly face, he found Styr red with rage.

"The old crow fought like a First men and deserved to die as one, not being backstabbed by you, you southron cunt"

Karl Tanner froze, and with a godly speed, Styr advanced and beheaded him. After the killing was done, Styr looked back to his fellow Magnars and asked.

"Where the fuck is Mance?"

"He went to the back of the Crows with Tormund Giantsbane, Varamyr and a hundred more, probably looking for some crows who were sent to alert the Wall." responded Harma Dogshead.

"Let's go then."

* * *

 **Here we are! I know that this is waaaay different that what is in cannon, but as I said, this is an AU without White Walkers, so I needed an alternative plan to the massacre at the Fist of the First Men.**

 **I have an important exam this Monday and the next chapter isn't finished so the next chapter will take a while, hopefully by the end of the week**

 **Let me know what you think with those reviews!**

 **See you soon!**


	9. Daenerys I

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot, all characters and rights belong to George R.R. Martin.**

 **Hi guys, I'm back! I know I said it would take longer to update, but I have some things to say regarding some of the latest PMs and reviews. If you want answers to your questions, READ THAT!**

 **As you may know, there are NO white walkers in this story, to the concern of some of you and the happines to others. When I published the fic, it was in the description of it ("No WW"), but maybe some of you who started following it didn't saw it, so now I'll explain why I took that decision.**

 **First of all, I don't like walkers at all, and being my first AU story about GoT, I felt more comfortable deleting them from the history.**

 **Second, I'm not a native english speaker nor writer, and that means that I have some troubles to write a 2k words chapter, so I planned for this story to end when I reach 100-140k words, no more.**

 **Third, I wanted this story to focus entirely on the War of the Five Kings. (Five? huehue). BUT, for those who already vision a Stark fix-fic with Robb Stark and Margaery Tyrell on the throne, you are wrong. I can assure you that Robb will not seat on that blasted iron chair.**

 **For those who are concerned about why the fuck are the wildlings under the leadership of Mance, don't worry, I'll show you in the incoming chapters. It won't be anything epic, but it will be logic.**

 **I know some of you are disappointed about it, but I beg you give it a try. With the path the story is taking, I have the opportunity of doing some things that I'm sure no one wrote before me. Truth to be told, I don't know If I will be good enough to write it, but it can be SO. FUCKING. EPIC.**

 **Without further delay, here is the chapter. It's a short one to introduce some new sub-plots, but regardless, I hope you enjoy it.**

* * *

 **Daenerys I**

Her path to reclaim her family rightful throne was going great. In the last year, she hatched three dragons, who were now as big as horses, and took an army of ten thousand men, eight thousand unsullied and the remaining two of the Second Sons. But it wasn't sufficient, she needed her dragons to grow up or more men.

So she was here, in the recently taken Yunkai, planning her next move through Slaver's Bay. _And then to Westeros, to reclaim the Iron Throne._

She sat in her war council with her most trusted advisors. Ser Barristan Selmy, also called Barristan the Bold, a former Kingsguard of his grandfather and probably the best swordsman still alive, even at his old age. Next was Ser Jorah Mormont, the exiled Lord of Bear Island and her oldest protector, who had been with her even before she was married like a brood mere to Khal Drogo. Commanding the Unsullied was Grey Worm, and at his left sat Daario Naharis, leader of the Second Sons. And last but not least, Missandrei, her confident, friend and translator.

"Ser Barristan, as the most experienced battle commander here, what is your advice?"

"We have ten thousand men and your dragons grow strong every passing day your grace. If the other Free Cities don't threat us in any way, I will tell you to wait a couple of months, so the army can rest and your dragons grow stronger. If you prefer to move from Yunkai, my suggestion is to attack Mereen. We have the men enough to take it, and the entirety of Slaver's Bay would be yours. Furthermore, Mereen has ships, ships you could use to sail to Westeros." Responded the old knight, signalling the city of Mereen in the map.

"We will rest in Yunkai for two weeks, and then we will take Mereen. For too long the slavers had the power in this lands. No more." said Dany with determination in her voice.

Both Ser Jorah and Ser Barristan nodded at her, supporting the plan.

"My Queen" told Daario Naharis "Mereen has enough ships to carry your army to Westeros, and they would surely do it for free, should you show them your dragons. Why don't we hire more sellsword companies and go across the Narrow Sea? The Seven Kingdoms are at war, you shouldn't waste this opportunity"

"What do you know about Westeros, Naharis?" told a stern Jorah "The smallfolk will not follow her if her entire army is composed by sellswords, and even with that, our numbers aren't even enough to take the Stormlands as weakened as they are now. We need allies, not small houses but entire kingdoms. It would suffice with the backing of Dorne and the Reach, but our last report told us that the Tyrells were going to ally with the Lannisters. If this is true, they will outnumber us by two or three to one, counting the Martells at our side. And that's forgetting Ned Stark's son and Stannis Baratheon." Jorah took air and looked at Dany. "Let them bleed your grace. Let them weaken themselves and then we strike."

Dany turned to Ser Barristan, who nodded at her. Impatience wasn't going to make them any favour. "I agree with you Ser Jorah. For now let's rest, in two weeks we'll talk again and decide how we proceed, but we will not launch an assault at the Seven Kingdoms unprepared. My dragons are small, they can't take a heavy defended city like King's Landing or Riverrun, and I will not risk their lives just because I didn't take my time planning it. Let's end this here"

"Very well my Queen. I live to serve." Daario bowed and left the council rooms, followed by Grey Worm.

Barristan and Jorah were looking one at each other, having a silent conversation that ended with the both nodding. It was Ser Barristan who spoke.

"My Queen, can we give you our honest advice?"

Dany raised an eyebrow and looked at the both of them. "You always do it, why should you stop now? Speak freely."

"Once we sail for Westeros, you should leave Daario here. Be it as governor of your holdings in Essos or as Commander of your eastern empire, but going to Westeros with a former lover will make a bad impression to the nobles of the Seven Kingdoms."

"I am who takes these kind of decisions Sers, remember that. But I knew your opinion in the matter before you told me" she drank from his glass of watered wine and continued. "Once we sail for Westerios, he will stay here with the Second Sons, as I need an ambassador if I don't want the slavers to regain their power. But neither of you will tell a word to him. Now leave me." said Dany, trying to hide his anger.

Both of them bowed and left, leaving Dany alone with Missandrei. She relaxed his shoulders and talked with her for a while, needing a conversation with someone who could understand her without demanding anything back, and eventually going back to her chambers..

After taking a bath and having a look to her dragons, she went to her chambers. Tomorrow would be another day.

* * *

After a week repairing more than fifty ships in the docks, Kevan Lannister had sixty ships and five thousand men ready to attack Dragonstone, whose garrison was half that number. It was a tough nut to crack, but they needed to remove Stannis from the map.

Enjoying a last night of peace in his chambers inside Maegor's Holdfast, Kevan got his thoughts interrupted by a nock in the door.

"My Lord, the Hand of the King is here" told the guard in Lannister colours, who opened the door without hesitation after receiving an encouraging nod from him. Tywin Lannister entered the room.

"My Lord Hand" vowed Kevan respectfully

"Kevan, we must talk."

"Of course Tywin, take a seat please. What do you need from me?" told Kevan, as the dutiful brother he was.

"You sail for Dragonstone tomorrow at dawn. Once you take the island and capture Shireen Baratheon, kill her with discretion. Once she is removed from the line of succession, Tommen has no competitor to Storm's End claim, and the Stormlords will flock to our side."

Kevan wasn't expecting that. He had foreseen Tywin ruthlessness at first hand, and he knew about the horrors of war. But the girl was family-by-law, and innocent by all reports. "If these are your orders I will follow them, but are you sure that the girl is a threat? Nobody will follow a small girl with greyscale to conquer the Iron Throne."

"Maybe not by herself, but our family is hated enough for the stupidity of my daughter and grandson. The girl will die, Tommen will rule the Stormlands, and you, brother, will be the new Lord of Dragonstone and the Narrow Sea." Tywin unfolded his pack, showing a crimson banner with two golden lions facing each other, a symbolism of him being the second son. "You have been my most trusted advisor all this years. I can't think of anyone better to start a new Lannister cadet branch."

If Kevan was surprised when he was ordered to kill Shireen, being granted a lordship by his own left him completely speechless. "A… Alright Tywin, I won't fail."

"I know you won't. Take Lancel with you and leave him as castellan, I will need you in the war against the Starks and I can left the island without someone commanding it. Have a good sleep brother, tomorrow you reclaim Dragonstone for yourself" and Tywin went out of the room.

* * *

The docks were full of soldiers, sailors and peasants alike. The fleet was almost ready when the Lannister and Baratheon procession came down from the Red Keep, passing by Fisherman's square who was full of smallfolk who, to be honest, didn't look neither happy nor well fed.

As it was customary, the King and his council bid the army farewell when they went in campaign. When they reached the docks at the Blackwater, the party stopped and dismounted their horses.

"Ser Kevan Lannister, your loyalty and services to the crown will not be forgotten. May the Seven guide you through the seas and give strength to your swords to bring down the usurper Stannis Baratheon" proclaimed Joffrey as kingly as he could.

"Thank you for your kind words your Grace. I will do my duty to the crown" vowed Kevan.

Tywin stepped forward and put his hand in his brother's shoulder. "Remember what we talked" Kevan nodded in acknowledgment,

He got on his flagship _the Queen Cersei_ and looked back at his men, unsheathing his sword and taking it up in the air. "Today we sail to war! For King Joffrey!"

"For King Joffrey!" his men cheered at him, and the fleet started his way to Dragonstone.

* * *

The smell of salt filled the air near the shores of Pyke, ancestral home of House Greyjoy. Asha was aboard her flagship, the _Black Wind_ , with her most important liutenants, along with the thirty ships she had under her command.

A lot had happened in the last days. For one, his father Lord Balon Greyjoy had died under strange circumstances while crossing one of the rope bridges that connected the towers of Pyke, falling to the sea. At the same time his corpse was recovered, the _Silence_ , her uncle Euron's ship, was spotted near the isle. By Westeros laws of succession, her brother Theon was the heir of the Iron Islands, but the Seven Kingdoms were too busy ripping their throats apart to look to the isles, a fact that was well known by captains and reavers. The ironborn would claim independence once more, but who would be the king?

His uncle Victaron, while a formidable warrior and good commander, having the hundred ships of the Iron Fleet under his direct command, was made to follow orders, not lead their people, and the ironborn were too proud to follow her just because she was a woman, even after proving herself reaping and looting wherever she went.

Knowing that his uncle, Aeron the Damphair, will push for a kingsmoot in Old Wyk to decide the next Ironborn leader, and that if Euron Greyjoy somehow managed to claim the Seastone chair, they would be fucked and led by a madman, their only option was his brother Theon, who after ten years in the mainland, no one knew what kind of man he was.

Determined to know it, she was going to lead her ships towards Seagard and look for his brother, and if the captains and the Drowned God considered him worthy, he would rise as King Theon Greyjoy of the Iron Islands.

* * *

 **Here we are! I hope you liked it, as short as it was. Next chapter will be a Robb one, and It will be longer.**

 **Your reviews and support are very much appreciated**

 **See you soon!**


	10. Robb IV

**Disclaimer: I own anything but the plot. All the characters and rights belong to George R.R. Martin.**

 **Heeeyo! I'm back!**

 **My exam went rather well, so as promised, here you have a new Robb chapter. Next one will be Jon's!**

 **As always, thanks to those who read, followed and reviewed this story. Your support means so much for me!**

 **jean d'arc: Tbh, I haven't decided yet how Tyrion will fare in the story, so everything is possible!**

* * *

 **Robb IV**

His heart was beating so hard that is almost went out through his mouth. When the soldier rushed inside the room, he feared that somehow the Lannisters were attacking them, or that someone got killed, but the last thing he thought was about someone returning his sister with her. _She was supposed to be in the capitol, how did she got here?_

"Robb, wait" called the Blackfish, who was running behind him "I'll come with you. If Arya is back, I'll send a raven to Riverrun to inform your mother, she will be thrilled with the news"

"Aye. Let's not waste any time uncle" and they both went out of the castle.

The turmoil in the Stark camp was palpable, the news spread like a fire in the woods. He could see a mob of soldiers, all with the Stark direwolf in the shield, encircling the tent protectively, and amongst them, Hallis Mollen, his most trusted men in Winterfell's household.

He approached him and tried to look as kingly as possible, hiding his trembling hands.

"Hallis"

"Your grace, please, come with me, she is inside the tent" vowed the middle-aged soldier

He nodded to the Blackfish, and they both entered the tent lead by Mollen. When they came in, they found Arya slept in bed, and a man with a huge scar covering half his face. He recognised him in the same moment he turned his head, meeting his eyes. To Hallis's surprise, both Robb and Brynden unsheathed his swords and pointed it towards him.

"What are you doing here, Clegane?" spat Robb

However, before Sandor could reply, Hallis stepped in his defence. "Your grace, he was who took your sister back."

Robb was beyond shocked. He looked back at the Hound, who just nodded at him, and lowered his sword, the Blackfish following his example.

"I have questions, and you will answer all of them when she wakes up. But for now, answer me this one. Why did you take her out of King's Landing?"

The Hound laughed, not a loud laugh, but more an ironic one. "If you think that your sister was inside King's Landing all these months, you're a bigger fool than the asshole who sits in the Iron Throne." He turned his eyes to Arya, who was sleeping like a baby, and did a small smile at her "You have quite the survivor here. In fact, I think that she has bigger balls than you and I" chuckled the Hound.

"I don't understand" told Robb sincerely. How could a small girl of less than ten escape King's Landing without help? It was ridiculous.

"You will Young Wolf. Oh, and congratulations, there are lots of cunts inside King's Landing that want your head."

"We'll talk again when my sister wakes up. For now, you have my hospitality inside the camp, along with my gratitude for bringing my sister back. For the moment, leave me alone with my sister, my uncle will take you to the keep where you will find bread and mead."

Sandor looked at him briefly, before nodding at him and standing up. He and the Blackfish left the tent, leaving Robb with Arya and Hallis, who was standing guard at the door.

He sat at his sister's left, holding her tiny hand. He stood there for minutes, thinking what could have happened to his sister since she left Winterfell with father months ago. Eventually, he talked to Hallis.

"Tell me the whole story Hallis. How can someone like the Hound bring Arya back being one of the most known faces in Westeros?"

"He and the little princess came disguised as peasants, with hoods covering their faces. I was near the entrance of the camp, where some Karstark soldiers were standing guard. I heard his voice and remembered him from the time that King Robert came to Winterfell, so I approached." He then looked at Arya and a smile came to his face "And then, your sister started shouting and running to both guards telling them that she will pass no matter the resistance. It was like being home again Your Grace. I stopped all of them and knelt in front of her, and there she was. I sent one of my own men to send the news to you before knowing the identity of the man who took her back. Should I knew that it was Clegane, I would have gone myself."

"You did well Hallis. For the Old Gods, my sister is back. I will stand at her side and I'm surrounded by my own men. Rest for some time, you deserve it."

"Your Grace" vowed Hallis, leaving the tent.

* * *

Her head was aching so hard it was almost going to explode. She slowly opened her eyes and looked at the roof. The roof. How did she get inside a tent?

"Arya"

She could believe the voice she was hearing. She turned to her left and found Robb, his older brother, looking at her. His auburn curls were falling through his forehead, and a small beard covered his cheeks and chin.

"Robb!"

Without thinking more about it, she jumped from bed and hugged her brother tightly, tears falling from her eyes.

"Arya, I'm so glad you're here, out of that snake pit."

"I saw it Robb. I saw how they executed father and I thought I would never see you again, or mother, or Bran, or Rickon."

"Hush sister, you're back, that's all that matters now." He released her and looked at her eyes. "For now we go to the castle where you will take a bath and eat properly, then we will talk about all that has happened since we both left Winterfell, are you okay with that?"

Drying her tears, she nodded at him and they both went out of the tent, where all the soldiers cheered at them, with shouts of _Stark_ , _The Young Wolf_ and more surprisingly for her, _the Wolf Princess_.

* * *

After taking a bath and devouring two plates full of meat, fish and potatoes, she dressed herself. Obviously she wasn't going to wear a pretty dress, but presenting herself in front of all the northern lords with the same clothes that she wore through the entire Riverlands was something even she couldn't do, so she took some riding pants and a shirt with the Stark direwolf on it and left the room, where his brother was waiting her.  
When he saw her, a smile came to his face.

"I suppose that some things don't change with the time little sister" chuckled Robb

"You know me better than that" laughed her back

She grabbed his brother hand and went to his brothers chambers, where they will talk privately before going to the great hall, where the wedding would take place. She sat in front of her brother and asked first.

"I know you want to know everything Robb, but can you talk first? I need to distract myself with other ones battles"

Robb was taken aback with that. Other ones battles? How many things had his sister witnessed? She talked like someone who had been through a battlefield, a place a girl should never know.

"Very well Arya, but you will tell me everything when I finish"

"I will"

So he started talking. He told her about the moment he called the banners, how Grey Wind gained him the support of the Greatjon, along with two of his fingers, their march south and the pact with the Old weasel. He narrated the battle of the Wispering Woods, where Daryn Hornwood and the Karstark brothers died defending him from the Kingslayer, who was now rotting in Riverrun's cells, how they liberated the Riverlands and plundered the Westerlands. The only thing he omitted, was the attempt of his mother to free the Kingslayer.

"So you have Jaime Lannister prisoner? I'm sure Cersei loves that" laughed her sister.

"I'm sure that she does. But that was all about me. So tell me Arya, how did you came here? Sandor Clegane told me that you were not in King's Landing for long and that you were quite the survivor."

She cursed Clegane inside her for telling anything to her brother, but she started talking.

"I was in the Red Keep practising when Syrio and Meryn Trant of the kingsguard tried to take me prisoner, but I escaped and Syrio died for me. I found all our household dead in the Tower of the Hand, even Septa Mordane, but Sansa was nowhere to be found, so I escaped, killing a stable boy with _Needle_ when he tried to bring me to the Lannisters. I disguised myself for a poor boy of Flea Bottom, because I didn't know how to get out of the city. Some days after that, all the people was going to the Sept of Baelor, where father confessed his crimes and was murdered." She stopped there, tears coming to her eyes, and Robb hugged here tightly.

"We can continue this later Arya"

"No, it's fine, better to get rid of it"

She took air and dried her tears, willing to end the conversation as fast as possible.

"When they executed father, Yoren, the wandering crow of the Night's Watch took me and tried to take me back to Winterfell. After two days in the roads, two Lannisters stopped us and demanded Yoren to give one of the prisoners back, but he refuses, so the night after that the Lannisters attacked and killed Yoren, making us prisoners." She stopped for a moment and put her hand in her pocket, playing with the coin inside it. _I can't tell him about Jaqen._ "Then we were captive at Harrenhall, who was still in hands of the Lannisters. One night I found that the guards were killed and escaped with Gendry and Hot Pie. We tried to get here, but the Brotherhood without banners found us. They were going to leave us in Riverrun for a ransom, so went with them for a while. Then they captured Sandor, and I remembered how he killed Mycah and lost my temper. Beric sentenced him to a trial by combat, but he won and got freed, but not after kidnapping me. But I suppose it's fine now. He took me back to you, not the Brotherhood, and he has not asked anything."

Robb looked at her eyes, wondering if he should throw Clegane to a dungeon or not.

"Arya, how do you feel about Clegane?"

"It's strange Robb. He isn't a knight, but I don't think he is bad. He left the Lannisters after the Blackwater, and Joffrey has put lots of gold in his head. He is good with the sword Robb, I've seen him"

"What do you mean that you have seen him?"

"He teaches me swordplay. And we got attacked by a small party of Lannisters on our way here. None of them lived to tell the tale."

For the look in his eyes, she could tell that he didn't expect that, so he took profit of it and continued.

"He hates his brother also, and it's probably one of the few who can take him on a duel. Maybe you could make him to stay with us if you promise him that he could fight his brother"

"Why would someone fight the Mountain willingly? And his own brother?"

"Gregor Clegane has always been a monster Robb, and he was his small brother. There were tales in King's Landing, tales where Gregor put Sandor's face in the brazier for playing with his toys. I understand him."

"I don't like him, but if he took you here, I suppose I can give him one opportunity." He took a sip of water, clearing his throat, and continued. "Very well. I'll talk to him tomorrow, but for now, our uncle is going to wed and we should be present."

Nodding at him, she stood up and took his brother's hand, going both of them to the Great Hall. When they entered, all the Lords stood up and looked at her.

"My Lords, may I present you my sister Princess Arya Stark of Winterfell!"

The hall erupted into cheers, causing her to blush.

* * *

The septon presided the ceremony in the Great Hall of the Twins. Edmure Tully had his eyes fixed at the entrance, where Roslin Frey, escorted by his brother Olyvar, was coming to him. She wore a beautiful light blue dress with grey details, and a white veil covering his face.

Olyvar took Roslin's veil out, and Edmure breath stopped. She was beautiful, definitively she didn't took any of the Frey traits. Olyvar gave Roslin's hand to Edmure, who took it graciously and smiled at her, and both of them turned towards the septon.

"Cloak your bride and take her under your protection" commanded the septon, and Edmure gladly did it. The septon looked to the guests and proceeded with the ceremony.

"My lords and ladies, we stand here in the sight of gods and men to witness the union of man and wife."

"Look upon each other and say the words"

"Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger" told both of them at the unison

"She is mine, and I am hers from this day until the end of my days."

"He is mine, and I am his, from this day until the end of my days"

The septon tied a ribbon in a knot around their joined hands, symbolising the union.

"Let it be known that Roslin of House Frey and Edmure of House Tully are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder. In the sight of the Seven, I herebly seal these souls, binding them as one for eternity. You may kiss the bride"

"With this kiss, I pledge my love" and Edmure gave his wife a tender kiss in the lips, while the hall erupted into cheers.

* * *

For more than three hours, the guests ate, drake, danced, sang and japed in the wedding feast, the joy of the union filling the air.

Edmure was more than smitten with his wife, his eyes never leaving her. Eventually, a drunken Lord Mallister called for the bedding, and both groom and bride were carried out from the hall.

Robb sat with the remaining lords, when Olyvar came to him.

"Your Grace, a rider in the middle of the night. He says that he has two important letters for you."

"Take him inside the castle. I will see him at the morrow." He took his mug of ale and drank it entirely before turning at Olyvar, who seemed to wait his dismissal."Try to enjoy the feast Olyvar, we won't have more celebrations in a while."

* * *

 **So here we are!**

 **All your reviews are appreciated!**

 **See you soon**


	11. Jon I

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. All characters and rights belong to George R.R. Martin**

 **Heeeyo, I'm back!**

 **First of all, thanks to all of those who read, followed and reviewed the story, specially to the last ones. Your support is appreciated!**

 **I have an announcement to say, and I'm pretty sure that you won't like it, but don't panic!**

 **It's not 100% decided, but I think that I will post new chapters weekly, rather than every 2-3 days like I've been doing. The principal reason is that I can't keep up writting chapters daily and keep my studies in a good level (I haven't failed any test, but I could have had higher marks surely), and the second one is that I want to re-read and edit the chapters with more patience and time. Right now, I read the chapters maybe two or three times before posting it, and the only thing I do is small edits about grammar mistakes and this kind of stuff, so I hope you understand me.  
My point is that I want to TRY to write less chapters in a week, but I want them to be more elaborated. I don't know If you think the same, but I see some difference between how I wrote my first chapter of the fic and how I write now. (BTW, I'll probably change some minor things in the first chapter, as there are some details that I think I could improve.)**

 **I will be glad to hear your thoughts about that. Let's go with the reviews:**

 **DanielHimura: Well, not that it will change a lot. If the content of the letters is important and he need to share it with his lords, it's useless to do it with half of them drunk.**

 **francisvirus, 12D3 Gorillaz: The letters will obviously be revealed in the next Robb POV, but they won't be from the Vale.**

 **The Three Stoogies, Feanor-dutch, Lusalec & ATP: Thanks for your support buds!**

 **I have talked for long, let's go for the chapter!**

* * *

 **Jon I**

He ran across the Haunted forest for a while, with Longclaw still sheathed in his hands and Ghost by his side. After running for what felt like an eternity, he spotted the black shape of Samwell Tarly twenty meters in front of him, with Grenn and Edd "Dolorous" Tollet flanking him, accompanied by a dozen of black brothers who he couldn't identify.

Gasping for fresh air in his lungs, he stopped and inhaled hard before shouting.

"Sam!"

The fat, bookish Tarly boy stopped and turned around, looking for the voice he was so familiar with. His eyes found Jon, who was coming towards him with a face of exhaustion. He walked towards him.

"For the Seven Jon, It's good to see you" told Sam, pulling his friend in a tight embrace "I thought that you were fighting with the Lord Commander. I thought I would never see your ugly face again" japed Sam, breaking the hug. Only then he spotted the Valyrian Steel sword Jon was carrying, a blade he knew very well. "What are you doing with Longclaw Jon?"

"There isn't time to long talks Sam, our brother won't resist for long, they were almost completely encircled by thousands of wildlings before the Lord Commander gave me his sword and kicked me out of there. He made me swear that I would deliver it in Bear Island." Sam nodded at him, and Grenn and Edd welcomed Jon back. "For now let's go my friends, if we waste our time here we will get caught. I will send ravens to my brothers in Riverrun and Winterfell as soon as we reach the Wall, the sacrifice of the Lord Commander won't be in vain." All the men surrounding him nodded, and went on their way back to the Wall.

They travelled for hours through the woods. The air was so cold that their lungs seemed the freeze for moments, and the snow falling made a thick white curtain, so it was difficult for them to see more than a two meter radius around them. Still, there was no refuge known between the Fist and Craster's Keep, so they just kept walking.

"I will freeze my…" started Edd

"Fucking balls out there" told Jon and Grenn at the unison, earning a few laughs from their brothers in arms, and an angry grin from the mocked one.

"Did you heard that?" said Sam with his voice trembling

"What are you saying Samwell? I didn't hear nothing" told Mark, an old black brother from a small village near Maidenpool who has served in the Watch since he was four and twenty.

"It must have been your imagination Sam, don't worry, the wildlings are far behind us, we will arrive to the Wall without any trouble" assured Jon, patting his friend in the shoulder.

Sam was starting to believe he really imagined it, product of his own fear, when a second, clearer howl sounded through the forest, and two more howls chorused it.

"Oh fuck" muttered Edd, unsheathing his sword in his right hand while holding a torch with the left one.

"Wolves, and they're near us. Group together and walk, we can't stay separated with this blizzard, we risk one of us dying without even noticing it" told Jon, with Longclaw ready.

The group did as bid, and they walked forward as fast as ten men almost holding hands could. The blizzard was less dense now, and they reached a forest clearing they knew from previous rangings.

"We're ten miles northwest of Craster's Keep, brothers. If we hurry we will be saved" said Mark confidently. Before knowing what happened, he got his throat ripped apart by a giant grey wolf.

The group gasped in shock, and those who hadn't his swords unsheathed took them out. They stick together and stepped back.

Pointing his sword to the wolf, who was now accompanied by two more beasts, Jon didn't spot the shadowcat pouncing at him from the side.

"Jon!" yelled Sam

He couldn't even get a clear view of the shadowcat when a red-eyed white shadow tackled the feline. The beast and Ghost rolled in the snow, and the direwolf had the upper hand of the fight. The three wolves swapped their targets upon hearing the shadowcats' cries of anguish as Ghost broke his neck. Protecting his direwolf, Jon slashed with his valyrian steel sword updown, killing the grey wolf in the spot.

"No! Greyskin!" shouted an angry voice from the shadows. Both wolves ran to the voice, leaving all the black brothers completely confused.

A group of more than forty men dressed with wildling liveries approached at them, swords unsheathed. Some of them had bows already charged, aiming at them. A man whose face was suspiciously familiar came forward, but before he could talk, a small bald man mounted in a polar bear raised his voice.

"You killed my beast boy, you will die for it!" he said and dismounted the bear. Without hesitation, he and the two wolves charged at Jon and Ghost.

Jon clashed his sword with him, the sound of steel and the growls of the wolves were the only sounds made by both parties, who looked in awe at the dance of steel.

While the wildling was skilled and way stronger than Jon, Jon was young and agile, and his skill with the blade was something to be reckoned. Jon went to the offensive after having defended himself for the first two minutes of the duel. The wildling blocked his blows with his sword and axe, but Longclaw broke the sword, costing the wildling three of his fingers.

The wildling, known as Varamyr fiveskins, left a cry of pain, and saw by the corner of his eye how Ghost had killed his two wolves quite easily. The rage burned inside of him, and with renewed spirits he focused on killing the boy who dared to face him. Jon was taken aback by the sudden change of events and went to a defensive stance again, trying to hold the berserker who was attacking him with an endless fury.

However, the superior steel and the cold mind of Jon proved too much for Varamyr, and after one minute, Jon found an opening and slashed Varamyr's belly. The wildling dropped his weapons and kneeled, his hands holding his guts. Jon could swear that he saw the wildling's eyes going white before stabbing him through the heart.

The polar bear turned crazy and started running towards Jon, with clear intentions of turning him into pieces.

"Orell! Stop this!" yelled the wildling who looked as the leader. A young man stepped forward and his eyes went white. The polar bear stopped when it was almost in range to knock off Jon with his giant claws.

"Skinchangers" muttered Samwell, who was almost pissing himself.

The eyes of the strange man, who seemed to control the bear now, turned to normality and calmly spoke to Jon. "She hates you."

"What?" asked Jon.

"The bear. She hates you and will kill you if I let her. Now I have Varamyr inside my thoughts, and he only whispers how much he hates you. You should take care boy."

A cold chill ran through Jon's spine, who could only nod at him. The wildling leader nodded at the skinchanger and spoke in a clear, loud voice.

"That was quite the spectacle Jon. What are you doing with Mormont's old sword?"

Jon looked perplexed at him, unknowing how a mere wildling could recognise Longclaw. "Who are you? Have I seen you before?"

The wildling scoffed and responded. "My name is Mance Rayder. I'm the so called King-Beyond-The-Wall, but we no one kneels out there."

Jon and all the black brothers went pale. They came beyond the Wall to find and kill Mance, and now he was here, in front of their noses.

"And yes, you have seen me before, Jon Snow."

"When?"

"In Winterfell, during King Robert's visit. I was disguised as a bard in the welcoming feast, your brother Robb, as drunken as he was, made me play _The Bear and the Maiden fair_ three times in a row before one of his friends took him to his rooms" said Mance with a small smile in his face. "But now this isn't important. You and your friends will come with me, you can choose to come as guests… or as prisoners" when he finished, the Polar bear made a massive roar at Jon, who almost fell to the ground.

He turned around and looked at his friends. They were nine, now that Mark was dead, and Sam wasn't a fighter. They couldn't stand a chance against forty wildlings and one polar bear. His companions nodded in acceptance at him, probably thinking the same.

"We will go with you, but I have one question you must answer before we agree." He could hear Edd cursing at him for his stupidity, but he needed answers.

"What question?" asked Mance with an eyebrow raised and his hand on the pommel of his sword.

"Why are you commanding a wildling horde of one hundred thousand strong to attack the Wall?"

All the wildlings frowned at his question, but one was clearly outraged, his face as red as his beard.

"What have you called us boy?! We are the Free Folk you fucking kneeler. We rule ourselves!" spat the wildling, with his axe pointing at Jon.

"Peace Tormund" said Mance, putting his hand on the red-beard shoulder. "I will only attack the Wall if we are forced to Jon, and you will be the one who determines it"

"And how could I?"

"Your brother styles himself as King in the North, I'm sure he will listen to you." Mance approached at Jon and looked at him in the eye "We need to move further south, if we stay in the far north, more than half of my people will die of starvation in the next months"

"Your people has manned themselves for thousands of years Mance, what has changed?" asked an incredulous Jon.

"Cold winds come from the Lands of Always Winter. We don't know why, but is cold even for us. We can't harvest anymore and all the wildlife died of cold or migrated. The northern villages fell first, in less than a week more than half of the people were dead, they went to sleep and never wake up. I will be honest with you Jon, when I started to gather the Free Folk I wasn't going to ask nicely to cross the Wall, but the circumstances have changed. We are one hundred thousand, without counting the mammoths and the Giants, and not a single soul can withstand the cold or make food grow, we need to cross the Wall, and for what I'm told, your brother needs us too."

"What? Are you mad Mance? Why should my brother need you?"

"He is fighting a war, and I have thirty thousand men ready for battle, giants and mammoths. And this is leaving almost all our spearwives behind. Not you though, Ygritte" he said, looking at the redhead girl who was glaring at him. "So what do you say Jon? Thirty thousand men fighting for your brother in exchange for saving our people. I think it's a good trade, a trade your lord Father would consider."

Jon immersed in his own thoughts before giving an answer. "I can't guarantee you anything, but I will send word to my brother"

"Good. In that case, we march together to the Wall." Mance turned to his people, who had already sheathed their swords.

"Mance"

"Yes?"

"Why did you order an attack on the Lord Commander's forces if you wish for a peaceful end?"

Mance sighed, and his eyes showed a sadness he didn't expected. "Old grudges don't die easily Jon, I've worked for months to make some of the Magnars see reason, and I don't have months now. You know Old Jeor, he is such a stubborn bear, he wouldn't listen to us. But I told the ones leading the army that they should take him prisoner, so I hope he lives. We will have more time to talk Jon, for now, let's go back."

Even being unconvinced as we was, Jon couldn't refuse that he has the reason. Some members of the Watch, like Thorne and Qhorin, had a deep hatred for the Wildling, having fought them their entire life. He followed Mance reluctantly, and his brothers went behind him, the other wildlings flanking them.

* * *

 **Here we are! And I have the bad feeling that some of you will skin me alive, so THOSE WHO WANT TO KILL ME FOR THE REASON OF THE WILDLINGS MOVING SOUTH, READ THIS.**

 **As one of the reviewers posted, the WW are out in this fic BUT this doesn't mean that they simply don't exist. They have been taking a 8,000 years nap, why not 8,050 years nap? Leave all the "red comet" prophecies or the "return of magic" bullshit, as magic hasn't been stopped in Asshai for all this time and 300 years ago dragons were completely fine.**

 **My point is that since the Walkers "came back" I'm sure they needed years to gather all the sleeped Walkers and raise the wights, and how do you raise a big undead army fast? Killing all the living you can without making them run out of fear. So that's why there is an "extreme cold" making the Wildlings life impossible. Such a shame for them that Mance was trying to rally all of them. So who knows, maybe when I end this story I leave it with an open finale about the return of the Walkers (?)**

 **I hope you liked it and understand me!**

 **See you soon!**


	12. Yohn III

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. All characters and rights belong to George R.R. Martin**

 **Heyo! I'm back with another chapter!**

 **First of all, thanks to all those who followed and reviewed, especially to the last ones.**

 **And I must thank you guys for giving your honest opinions about the last chapter where I mentioned the reason of why the Free Folk are coming south, having your support and comprehension reaaally helped.**

 **Anyways, I hope you like this chapter!**

* * *

 **Yohn III**

He had fought battles against the Mountain clans, and also in two wars, where he witnessed real carnages, blood, guts and brains spilled in the ground, but the image of Mychel Redfort's remains would haunt him in his worst nightmares.

There wasn't much left from the young, gallant boy who was once betrothed to his daughter, only his battered chestplate with the Redfort sigil on it was still recognisable. In the floor, only blood, brains and broken bones smaller than arrowheads, with the sole exception of half of his skull, that still had one eye wide open.

The cries of anguish of Lord Horton filled the air, who was now knelt, holding without any force the chestplate that his son had worn. His three sons were already there, Jon and Creighton weeping with his father, and Jasper, his oldest, swore revenge upon those who had murdered his baby brother, before storming out of the place.

* * *

An urgent council was immediately called after the dreadful event. All the lords were gathered, excepting Lord Redfort who was mourning his son. In his absence, his son and heir Jasper occupied his place.

Lord Royce spoke.

"Before starting this war council, I want to extend our most sincere condolences to you and your family, Ser Jasper. Your brother was a fine man and will be sorely missed"

Jasper looked up, meeting the Lord of Runestone eyes, before nodding. He wasn't in the mood to speak, so Yohn continued his speech.

"The diplomatic way is now out of the question. Thanks to the information of our scouts, we know that six thousand men under Lord Corbray and Ser Lyn are coming here. We will be stuck here for a time, and this is what I propose. Seven thousand men will go to Harrenhall under the command of Lord Melcolm and Ser Jasper while my son Ser Andar and Ser Creighton Redfort will take five hundred of my knights and ride to the Twins, where King Robb is, to pledge our loyalty to him. Of the remaining fourteen thousand five hundred men, three and a half thousand will siege the Eyrie. Lord Redfort and Lady Waynwood will command them. I will go with the remaining eleven thousand and face Lord Corbray. I will explain him what happened in the Eyrie, hoping that he will see reason, and if he doesn't I will destroy him. For all we know, all the other lords who are loyal to Lady Lysa are up in the Eyrie, and I doubt that all of them will stand by her side after what she did to our envoys" He looked left and right to his fellow countrymen. The majority of them were nodding at him, giving their acceptance to the plan.

"Are we really going to starve our liege lord in his own castle?" asked Lord Grafton. "This is madness my Lords"

"You forget that it is this liege lord's regent who threw my brother through the moon door, Grafton. If all the bastards who were involved must die, so be it" yelled Jasper, his face as red as his own banner.

"We don't know yet what happened up there" responded the Lord of Gulltown. "I won't command my men to assault the Eyrie without a valid rea-" but he was cut by Lady Waynwood.

"For fucks sake Grafton, when did your family became a blind Arryn loyalist? If I remember correctly your own father died after supporting the Mad King in the Rebellion, killed by King Robert himself" barked the proud lady of Ironoaks.

Gerold turned pale after her declarations, before turning red with rage, his hand playing with the pommel of his sword. "I won't tolerate nobody questioning my honour nor my loyalty my Lady" he said, glaring at her with a murderous look.

Before things heated up more, Yohn decided to stop it. "I'm sure that Lady Waynwood didn't talk with these intentions Lord Grafton. But I can't understand your scepticism, you should remember that the moon door is always closed. They only open it when they want to execute someone, so I beg you to return to your senses."

Lord Grafton calmed himself and seated, glaring at Lady Anya. He stood there and considered his possibilities and what should he do. A month ago, Lord Baelish was a safe gamble, but now he was trapped inside the Eyrie and more than half of the Vale lords had rebelled against him and Lady Lysa. His house couldn't afford to be in the wrong side of the war again.

After much consideration, he saw that his only option was to side with Lord Royce.

"I don't want my loyalty to be questioned" he said, all the lords turning their eyes towards him. "If a fight breaks out against Lord Corbray, I want to ask the honour of leading my men in the vanguard" replied fiercely, causing quite the commotion in the hall. After a brief exchange of glances, Yohn nodded at him and ended the meeting.

"Ser Jasper, stay"

The Redfort heir turned back and looked at Yohn, and spoke only when all the other lords left the room.

"Of course. What do you need from me, Lord Royce?"

"When I received the news that Ser Loras Tyrell had murdered my son in cold blood, I wanted to call all my levies and march to war to kill the sword-swallower and all those who would step between me and my justice" he looked at the young knight in the eyes, and saw that he was trying to hold his tears. "I know that you want to avenge your brother, and trust me when I say that I share your feelings, even if he wasn't my blood, he was going to be my good-son soon. But if you enter in the Eyrie blinded with rage, you will only get yourself killed. That's why I send you to the Riverlands. I promise you that justice will be served"

Jasper just nodded and lowered his head, leaving the room without being dismissed.

* * *

At first light, Lord Melcolm and Ser Jasper led their seven thousand strong army towards the Bloody Gate, where they would exit the Vale and enter the Riverlands. At the same time, Andar Royce and Creighton Redfort parted to the Twins with five hundred riders, in order to contact the Young Wolf and give him their oaths of fealty, and also explaining him the current situation in the Vale.

Before marching out of the Gates of the Moon, Yohn went to Lord Redfort's chambers. He stopped in front of it and knocked at the door.

"Who is it?"

"Horton, I'm Yohn. Can we speak privately?" told Yohn, with his gaze fixed at the floor. He was starting to leave when the door opened.

"Come in" replied Lord Redfort, whose red eyes signalled he was weeping not long ago.

Yohn entered the room and they both sit in a table that was in the middle of the room. "Can I offer you anything? Water, wine?"

"No, don't worry Horton. Thank you anyways."

"So, what can I do for you my Lord?" told Lord Redfort in a formal tone

"Forgive the pleasantries and the protocol Horton, we know each other for a very long time." He paused for a moment and looked at his friend in the eyes with a kind look. "How are you, my friend?"

Horton lowered his head, and a single tear ran through his cheek. "I knew that my boys could die in war, but at least it would have been an honourable death and I could bury them. Seeing my baby boy falling from the moon door and clashing in the ground…" he couldn't resist anymore and broke. Yohn stood up and walked towards Horton, pulling him in a hug.

"We will avenge them Horton. We will avenge your son as we will avenge mine."

"How you do it Yohn? How can you be so strong after losing two of your boys?" told Redfort between sobs.

"I have two more children. Andar and Ysilla are all what I need to keep fighting" he responded. He broke the hug and looked at his friend in the eyes. "You have three more sons Horton. Three sons that need your guidance. Your firstborn would burn the Eyrie to the ground if he could do it, and the other two are heartbroken, you must be strong for them."

Horton dried his tears "Aye, I suppose you are right. So, what do we do now?"

"You will be in command of the siege with Lady Anya, Jasper is going to Harrenhall as second in command and Creighton is on his way to the Twins. Your Jon will stay with you here. I won't say you how to siege or assault the Eyrie, but we need Robert Arryn alive or there will be whispers about us murdering him just to put Harrold on the Weirwood throne."

"I know that Yohn" scoffed Horton. "It will be done. Sooner or later, they will yield to us. They have food for less than two months, and when winter settles, they will be stuck up there. They need to treat with us if they don't want to starve."

Yohn nodded at Horton and patted his shoulder. "I must go. We will see each other again"

"Aye"

* * *

When everything was settled, eleven thousand men under Lord Royce and Lord Grafton marched out of the Gates of the Moon and went north to face Lord Corbray.

As promised, Grafton would have the command of the two thousand men of the van. The bulk of the forces, located in the centre, was led by Yohn himself, while Symond Templeton had the right and Ser Wallace Waynwood the left. The reserves where under Ronnald Arryn, a distant cousin of the Arryn of Gulltown's branch.

After half day marching, both armies faced each other in the mountain range that separated Heart's Home from Longbow Hall. While the terrain gave them the advantage in a hypothetical battle, due to the impossibility of sending cavalry to flank them, it would be a frontal clash of two armies, and if you hoped for most of your men to survive and fight another day, a giant melee between two mountains wasn't going to help your cause.

Acknowledging this, Yohn Royce sent a white flag to parlay. The response was fast, as two riders that he could identify as Lyonel and Lyn Corbray galloped towards him with four horsemen close behind. He decided to go in equal numbers, so Lord Grafton and he advanced, followed by four knights of his own household.

He ordered his thoughts before speaking. While Lyonel was the head of the house, it was Ser Lyn who he needed to convince. As holder of the Valyrian steel sword, Lady Forlorn, he was renowned as a warrior, probably the best sword in the Vale, surpassing him by far. He closed his eyes and sent a silent prayer to the gods.

It was Lord Lyonel who spoke first.

"Lord Royce, it has been long since we last met" told Lord Corbray in a cold tone.

"Indeed my Lord. It's a shame that we must met with two armies at our back and not with meat and mead in our table."

Lord Lyonel scoffed at his words. "A necessary action, proving that you're being a traitor to our liege lord. Surrender and disband your armies and come with me to the Eyrie. I'm sure that Lord Robin and Lady Lysa will be merciful with you."

"As much as I would like to have my liege's backing, that is impossible. And I don't think that you will be able to see Lady Lysa in a long time, as her castle is being besieged" responded Yohn with a determined grin.

"What are you talking about? Why the seven hells would you siege the Eyrie?" exclaimed Ser Lyn

"I'm sure that you missed the most recent news. As you may know, more than half of the Lords of the Vale wished to enter the war, so I called my allies and mustered them in Runestone. We marched to the Eyrie asking for Lady Lysa blessing to enter the war, but in less than a day, she threw one of our envoys through the Moon door." He stopped for a moment, and looked at the shocked expressions of both Corbrays. _I may still have a chance_. "You knew him very well Ser Lyn, as it was your own former squire who was murdered."

Lyn Corbray's eyes went wide, and his mouth opened leaving no sound. Lord Lyonel looked at his brother for a brief moment, the seed of doubt planted in his head.

"Lysa Arryn is mad my lords. We need to stop her and put Lord Robert under proper supervision, and have a small council of Lords ruling the Vale while he grows up, so I will ask you once. Are you going to continue serving a woman who pisses in your honour and drives the kingdom to ruin or are you going to help rebuilding it?

Lord Lyonel response fell like a bucket of cold water. "We will meet in the field of battle" and he turned his horse and went back to his army.

Ser Lyn was surprised by his brother reaction. He knew that Mychel Redfort had been like the son he never had _or would have_. Still, he proceeded to follow his brother.

"Ser Lyn" he heard the loud voice of Yohn Royce. "The boy went up thinking that you were in the Eyrie, confident that nothing would happen to him while you were present. He believed in you and died for it. Don't let him die for nothing."

Lyn looked at Yohn and nodded, and both parties returned to their armies. The battle was now inevitable.

* * *

 **Sooo here we are! Hope you liked it, even if I somehow created Yohn "the Psychologist" Royce!**

 **As always, reviews are much appreciated!**

 **See you!**


	13. Robb V

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. All characters and rights belong to George R.R. Martin**

 **Heeeyo! I'm back with another chapter!**

 **First of all, thanks to all of you who followed and reviewed this story, especially to the last ones! Your support, as always, is amazing.**

 **This chapter is slightly shorter that what I wanted to do, but with more exams and stuff, I couldn't do it. Furthermore, today is this fic first "monthsary" and I wanted to update a new chapter for it :P**

 **I hope you like it! I'll wait your reviews!**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Robb V**

He woke up in his chambers, his head still pounding. _I think I drank too much, I will never try again to win a drinking contest with the Greatjon._ He got out of the bed and dressed himself as fast as he could, with intentions of break his fast, when someone knocked at the door.

"Your grace! It's me, Olyvar."

Despite his hangover, his kingdom wasn't going to rule himself, so he told his squire to come in.

"Good morning your grace" vowed the Frey respectfully.

"Good morning to you, Olyvar. What brings you here that early in the morning?"

"The rider that arrived last night is most insistent to see you at once. He almost didn't sleep, asking for you to everybody he met."

 _Oh fuck, I completely forgot about those god damned letters._ "It's fine Olyvar, tell him to meet me in the Great Hall, I will be breaking my fast.

* * *

Should the bacon had feelings, it wouldn't have felt any pain, as Robb devoured his breakfast with haste, barely chewing the food. However, his glorious revival was interrupted when a young man with Blackwood colours entered the hall. His eyes were red and his face pale, clear signs that he hadn't slept at all and was almost going to faint to the exhaustion.  
He knelt in front of him, vowing his head.

"My king. I'm Edmund Blackwood, third son of Lord Tytos Blackwood. I came from Riverrun with all haste to give you these letters, delivered by your own lady mother."

He took both letters and bid him to stand. "Your services are much appreciated Edmund. Eat something and sleep, my squire will find you a chamber with a comfortable bed." He looked at Olyvar, who nodded at him and left the hall followed by Edmund.

He took the first letter, with the direwolf of house Stark on it. _Bran._ He opened it and read

 _Dear Robb,_

 _I hope you are safe and well, I miss all of you so much._

 _Winterfell doesn't changes at all, nothing bothers the smallfolk, who are now harvesting the last crops before winter finally settles. Well, with the exception of Ramsay Bolton, but the Manderly's had him cornered, so it shouldn't take long for him to face justice._

 _I write you because the Wall scares me. Jon sent me a letter telling that one hundred thousand wildlings were going to attack the Wall, and Lord Commander Mormont took almost all the rangers to a great ranging beyond the Wall, something that Maester Luwin considered foolish._

 _Jon will write us back as soon as he returns to the Wall, but even then, if the rumours are correct, we need you and all the northern men here._

 _I will write you again as soon as I have more news._

 _With love_

 _Your brother Brandon, the Stark in Winterfell_

He read it three times before assimilating the words. One hundred thousand wildlings. It was impossible for the Watch to stop them, but was it true? It was known that half of the Wildling clans hated the other half, why would they march together against a seven hundred feet tall wall of ice? But even with that, he couldn't negate the Watch help, so after thinking about his options for a while, he decided to order the Mountain clans who probably were on his way to Moat Caitlin, to turn their backs and go to the Wall, as he couldn't afford to leave the Riverlands.

Wanting to end this quickly, he opened the second letter, who had the trout of the Tullys on it. _Probably mother again_.

 _Dear Robb,_

 _These are grave news, so I will go straight to the point._

 _Jaime Lannister has escaped from Riverrun._

If his day was bad, now it was even worse. How the fuck could the Kingslayer escape from a castle like Riverrun? It had no fucking sense. With his fist clenched, he continued.

 _A small party of Lannister soldiers under Devan Lannister infiltrated in Riverrun and liberated him and Martyn and Willem Lannister. We don't know for certain how they got there, but there are suspicions that they came here working with Lord Bolton, as nobody recognised the common soldiers._

 _Marq Piper killed Devan Lannister after he killed Ellery Vance, and went with a hundred of his knights to search for the Kingslayer. If we find him again I will let you know._

 _Also, your wife miss you Robb, he goes from side to side in the castle like a shadow, and his mother complains about everything here, so I hope that you could come here or at least write her to lift her spirits._

 _Be safe my boy_

 _Your mother_

Unable to maintain his nerves, Robb threw his mug of ale to the nearest wall, cursing internally. He stormed out of the room and spend the next hour in the training yard with his squire, to the former one misfortune, who ended bruised and completely exhausted after the training.

* * *

After midday, he gathered his lords to council. Now that the Kingslayer was free, Tywin Lannister had nothing to fear should they attack them. And there was also the situation in the Wall.

When all the lords were settled, he spoke.

"My lords, I have summoned you in order to tell you the latest news. And they aren't pleasant ones. The Kingslayer has escaped from Riverrun, with Kevan Lannister's twins."

Chaos reigned in the hall after the declaration. Rickard Karstark cursed loudest of them all, as the man who escaped had killed his two youngest sons. The turmoil stood for five long minutes, with the only exception of Ser Brynden and Robb himself, who were more concerned about thinking what they should do.

"Silence!" shouted Robb, to the amusement of his present bannermen. "Crying about it won't solve anything. We already have more than a hundred men searching for him, but we must prepare for the worst. If Jaime Lannister reaches the capitol, the Lannisters and the Tyrells will not hesitate to press the attack of the Riverlands. We can't retake Maidenpool in this situation, as it would be a risky move. That's why I'm sending Lady Mormont back to Harrenhall with eight thousand men, more than enough to keep the Lannisters at bay for the time being. Furthermore, we won't receive more help coming from the Moat. I know I told you that three thousand clansmen were coming, but I received a raven from the Night's Watch telling me about an army of one hundred thousand wildlings going to the Wall. As King in the North, I can't let it undefended, so I will send them to the Wall along with one thousand men from houses Manderly, Umber and Karstark who still have men enough in the North."

The northern lords looked at their king with concern, Umber and Karstark chief amongst them, as they were who suffered more wildling raids in their lands.

The hall stood in silence for a while, most of the lords muttering things between them or simply watching at each other. Edmure Tully broke the silence.

"And what do we do, your Grace?" asked the Tully. "We can't stay idle in the Twins for too long"

"And you won't" replied the King "You will take four thousand five hundred men and go to Riverrun. Once you're there, you will take half of the garrison and march south. You will maintain the Golden road blocked and send five hundred riders into the Reach, raiding the food supplies in the Roseroad between Goldengrove and Bitterbridge."

"This is a bold plan your Grace. Maybe too bold. We can't enter the Reach and fight them in their own homeland" replied Edmure, unconvinced of the plan

"And you won't. These riders will be only a distraction. When we raided the Westerlands we expected Tywin Lannister to follow us, but he didn't. That's because he wasn't forced to do so. Blocking the Golden road and the Rose road, the capitol will starve in days. Now he will be forced to act. Once your scouts report that he is on the move, your riders will regroup with you in the Golden road and retreat to Stoney Sept while three thousand men march to Maidenpool and twelve thousand man under Lady Maege and Lord Glover march south, camping near the God's Eye and faking an imminent attack on the Crownlands. I'm sure that when Lord Tywin knows that your blockade has ended and that we are on the offensive, he will go north and come to us. We will crush him in the God's Eye. Twelve thousand men in the front, your seven thousand from the back and I will ride with two thousand riders from the Twins, attacking him from the right. With the lake at the left, he will be surrounded from all the sides, preventing him to escape. When the Old lion falls, the Tyrells will abandon the Lannisters, and our road to King's Landing will be clear."

Edmure and barely all the lords were speechless. The plan had the potential of ending the war in one swift move but it had flaws. Too many flaws. If Tywin Lannister marched with more than thirty thousand men, the plan wasn't viable, and If he got reinforcements during the battle, they will be completely wiped out. Also, they were in enemy territory, so withdrawing was way more difficult. Seeing this, Ser Brynden spoke.

"Your grace, with all due respect, I don't know how you expect this plan to success. If our reports are correct, Tywin Lannister has fifteen thousand Lannister men in the Crownlands, and Tyrell has another forty. They double our numbers. If they come all to us, we will be destroyed."

"But they won't" was the single response of Robb.

Perplexed and with his eyes wide open, Edmure asked "And how can you be so sure?"

"Because Tywin's pride won't allow him. I mocked him once when I took his son hostage, and he won't let me mock him again. His pride won't allow him to recognise that he won the war because of the Tyrell's. It's true that he will take some of their men to ensure his victory, but he will have more of his own men. With this limitation, I'm sure that he will take a host of twenty or twenty five thousand men with him. We will be even in numbers, but we control the battlefield. Furthermore, he is known for commanding his men from the back, so when the bulk of both forces met in the front and I charge at his right, he and his personal guard will go straight towards my uncle's forces, who will enter the fight last. Once they enter in combat, we will have a high possibility of taking him prisoner, forcing the remaining forces to surrender" Robb looked at his generals, and saw the doubt in their faces.

"I know that it's risky, but time plays against us. You trusted me when we entered the Riverlands, splitting our army in two. Trust in me again and we will be in our homes before winter settles."

The lords nodded at their King, leaving the hall soon after. While they were not entirely convinced by the plan, such boldness had won them two decisive battles in the past, and their loyalty to Robb was beyond question. They will follow him to death if needed be.

* * *

 **So here we are! I hope you enjoyed it!**

 **Next update will take a while, probably a whole week. I know I've always updated every two, three or four days, but this week and the next will be a fucking hell with exams, so hopefully I will be able to write a bit everyday and post it next saturday.**

 **See you soon!**


	14. Jon II

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot, all characters and rights belong to George R.R. Martin**

 **Heeeeyo, I'm back!**

 **I know it has been a full week, but as I said, I had exams. Furthermore, I was going to post this on Friday, as I finished this chapter then, but as you may know, the website went down for hours, and I left for the whole weekend so I was unable to post it before!**

 **Anyways, here you have the next one! Thanks to all of those who followed and reviewed the story, specially to the last ones**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Jon II**

When he started the Great Ranging beyond the Wall, he considered of how many different ways anyone could die. Starved, dehydrated, killed by Wildlings or other beasts, freeze to death… But of all the possibilities, he never thought he would be in the same table of Mance Ryder, as his prisoner, but at least he and his brothers were treated as good as possible. Even a "king" such as Mance couldn't end the hatred that some of the wildling chieftains had to the Night's Watch. Or crows like they called them.

They only needed a couple of hours to regroup with the other wildlings. Upon sawing all of them in a single camp, Jon only could think what madness possessed the Lord Commander to be willing to meet such a large host in an open field, having the alternative of putting a seven hundred feet tall wall between them. But anyways, when a tall, muscled man with a scarred face informed Mance of how the Old Bear died, anger and sadness rose inside them. And surprisingly, Mance shared his feelings.

"It doesn't matter that we were enemies now. He was my friend once, and I will mourn him as such" were the only worlds of the proclaimed king of the Free Folk.

It was after three days and nights that Mance called him to his tent, to discuss how things will go once they reach the Wall. Despite being the leader of the army, Mance tent was as modest as all of the others in the camp. There was no luxury in this side of the Wall, only some chairs, a table and an improvised bed for him and his wife Dalla.

After coming in, Mance nodded at him and bid him to seat with a wave of his hand.

"Take a sit Jon, we will talk for a while. Can I offer you a drink?" told Mance

"I don't know what you drink out there, but I won't make the mistake of drinking it twice. But I thank you for your offer" told Jon with a bit of nervousness

Mance started laughing whole-heartedly. "Fermented goat milk lad. A strong drink for strong men" chuckled Mance, drying a tear from his eye. "But I suppose you aren't weak. A son of Eddard Stark and the killer of Varamyr fiveskins, you have make yourself a name here. If it's good or bad, I don't know, as you are still a crow for all of them."

"A name?" muttered Jon, raising an eyebrow.

"The White Crow. A simple name, and personally I think that the White Wolf would suit you better, but well, they're not original searching for nicknames" he stopped and raised his cup of fermented milk, and gestured it towards Jon, simulating a toast. He finished it in one gulp. "But as you may know, my people isn't fond of yours, so I don't think that they mean that as a compliment. Anyways, I didn't call for you to discuss this"

"Indeed"

Both of them looked at each other eyes and stood silent. It was quite uncomfortable and Jon grew restless, so he decided to break the silence.

"What are your plans?" asked Jon

"You already know them. I want my people to cross the Wall, and you're the key to make it without spilling more blood."

"And do you think that they will let me do it? When we arrive at the Wall, the most possible think is that fucking Alliser Thorne is in command. Knowing the bastard as I know him, he will close the gates and call me and my friends traitors to the Watch."

"This is why your friends aren't going back."

Jon rose from his seat, his face red with anger. "What are you implying Mance? Are you going to kill them? They are your gue-"

"Don't speak nonsense and sit down" yelled Mance in such a high tone that two of his own men rushed inside with his weapons ready. He dismissed them and regained the composture. "It escapes my mind how the son of a man like Ned Stark can be that stupid" muttered Mance in a low tone, so Jon couldn't hear him. "My people and I follow the Old Gods just as you and your family do. We don't break guest laws beyond the Wall, so let me explain what I have planned."

Jon calmed and looked down, ashamed of his behaviour. _Despite our differences, we follow the same gods, and no one is more cursed by them than those who break guest laws or slay their own kin._ He sat down and nodded at the former brother of the Watch, giving him his full atention. Mance looked at him in the eyes and returned the nod.

"They will stay with me in the camp, treated like the guests they are. Tormund and some of his men will go with you south. You will camp in the limits of the Haunted Forest and you will go alone to the Wall. Once you're in, tell Alliser that everyone died except you and that the Lord Commander's last wish was that his sword was returned to Bear Island by your own hand. And I repeat, your own hand. This is the only way that Thorne will not throw you into an ice cell. Send a raven to your brother and go to return your sword. You only have one opportunity to do this Jon, if your brother doesn't send someone North to discuss terms in four months, we will be forced to march to the Wall and assault it, I can't delay my people any longer."

Jon nodded at Mance in acknowledgement and left the tent, immersed in his own thoughts. He looked up to the sky and thought about Winterfell and seeing his siblings again.

 _But now I'm a sworn member of the Night's Watch. I have dozens of new brothers._

He was still thinking about happier times when someone stumbled with him. After almost falling to the snow, he looked at the child who was close made him fall and identified him as one of Karsi's childen.

"So… So… Sorry" muttered the scared little wildling, who had probably recognised him, or his direwolf, and had heard how Varamyr had met his end after crossing swords with him.

"Don't worry little one, I won't bite you and neither will my direwolf" told Jon, trying to calm the boy "We are in the same side now. Just try to be more careful playing around the camp, okay?"

"Y-yes, white crow" replied the child, running fast to the opposite direction of Jon, earning a chuckle from him.

"So some of the crows know how to treat children. Strange thing considering they prefer to freeze their cocks in the top of the Wall" he heard a woman's voice telling behind him. "But well, you were a child not so long ago, am I wrong?"

Jon turned around angry and so did Ghost, baring his teeth to the blond beauty that was standing in front of him. Stunned by her vision, Jon tried to be as polite as he could, quickly forgiving how angry he felt after her words.

"Do I know you, my lady?"

"My lady?" responded the mysterious woman with a raised eyebrow, before starting a soft laugh "We are not in the other side of the Wall, Jon Snow, there are no lords or ladies out there."

"Everybody tells me that. I suppose that it's just normal for me to address people I don't know with some respect."

"A kneeler through and through. Well, maybe we can shape you into a free man before you leave us" said the woman with a sensual smile on her face.

"Oh, and my name is Val, I'm sure you will remember it, don't you?"

She winked her eye and went in her own way, leaving Jon speechless and surprised about what had just happened.

* * *

The last summer snows were falling in Winterfell, where Bran was finishing his breakfast happily. There were no requests of the smallfolk today and Maester Luwin was desperately trying to make Rickon less wild, a task were he couldn't help, so he had until noon to do as he pleased.

After ending his bread with smoked bacon, Hodor carried him outside the fortress and went directly to the stables, where Osha was already waiting for him.

When he was mounted in his steed, he was as high as everyone, so after falling and breaking his legs, riding had become his favourite hobby.

"Let's go Osha!" exclaimed Bran with a smile on his face

"Where are we going, milord?" asked the spearwife, with her unruly curly hair covering his forehead. However, before he could reply, a voice he knew very well cut him.

"Brandon Stark!" called Luwin

"Maester Luwin, what are you doing here?" asked Bran, concerned about the presence of the maester. After all, if he had come down there, it wasn't to bid him farefell but to ask him to stay.

"You shouldn't get out of the city Bran. The Manderlys are still searching for Ramsay Snow, and they told us that he had fled towards Castle Cerwyn, which is at half-day ride from here" voiced the old maester

"We will just go around Winterfell, I want to feel the air in my face before winter comes. We will be out for three hours at most, nothing could happen in that time, and besides, I have Osha with me" said Bran while looking at the woman

"Don't worry old man, I will protect the little lord"

Unwilling to get convinced by Luwin, or worse of all, let Osha be convinced by him, Bran shouted at his horse and rode out, going towards the gates, followed by Osha and Summer, to the amusement of all Winterfell citizens who crossed him.

RAYARAYARAYARAYARAYARAYARAYARAYARAYARAYARA

"The old man won't be happy when we return milord" said Osha

"I am the Lord of Winterfell Osha, he can council me and help me ruling the North, but not commanding me what to do. I deserve time for me" protested Bran, a bit annoyed about being questioned every time he didn't do what the others tell him. He was the Stark in Winterfell, not Luwin, Ser Rodrik or any other.

They wandered through the plains that surrounded Winterfell for some time, until Bran grew bored. When he was alone, as Osha wasn't someone who kept holding unnecessary conversations, he could think about the past in peace. He remembered the day when they found the direwolves in the Wolfswood, how Jon had convinced his father to keep them, glaring daggers at Theon who wanted to kill the pups. _In the end, he is as Stark as we are_. Looking briefly to Summer, who seemed to just read his thoughts, he talked to Osha.

"We go to the Wolfswood Osha, south of here."

"Are you sure little Lord? The old man told you on purpose to don't go near there"

"Let's move." responded Bran coldly

* * *

It was almost midday when they reached the Wolfswood, and Summer went alone to hunt something to eat, so he and Osha were alone in the forest.

"Osha, why did you came south of the Wall?" asked Bran

"You never asked before, little lord. Why do you want to know it now?" responded the wildling

"Just curiosity"

"There is something unnatural. In the last year, the cold has intensified in the northern part, those who are almost touching the Lands of Always Winter, and my village was one of them. It was so cold that some of the elders and children died in their sleep, so me and my husband left the village and went south. We stopped in a village near the Antler River, when a brute came in, accompanied by two friends, and tried to kill us. My husband killed one of them before the brute took his life, while I was busy handling the other one. It was impossible for me to kill the brute, so after killing the small one I fled further south, inside the Hunted Forest, where he couldn't chase me. Eventually I found people who were going to pass the Wall and I joined them. It was an uneventful trip until we found you and your brother. You know the rest."

"Are you saying that you climbed the Wall?" exclaimed Bran in awe

"Yes, and it's something I won't do again" she said while looking up to the sky between the trees. "It's already noon, we should get back"

"Yes, you're right" responded Bran, knowing that Summer was close by.

However, before they could get up of the stones they were sitting, he heard the voice of a young man calling for him.

"Brandon Stark, I have finally found you"

* * *

 **Here we are, and I hope you liked it!**

 **I'm still with exams, if nothing changes I have the last one this Friday, so expect a new chapter for next weekend. I'm almost sure that it will be the one of the Battle of Dragonstone, you can't miss that ^^**

 **Have a good week people! See you soon!**


	15. Davos I

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot, all the characters and rights belong to George R.R. Martin**

 **Heeeyo! I'm back!**

 **Thanks to all of those who read, followed and reviewed my story, specially the last ones.**

 **Regarding last week chapter, I want to say something, so if you're interested about what I can possible say or think, please, READ IT!  
I know that not all of you like the idea of a possible, and I repeat, POSSIBLE, Jon/Val pairing, and probably there are many small things that you won't like about this story plot, but that's not reason to be disrespectful or tell that this story is just crap. I accept and read carefully all the reviews you leave me, I even PM some of you back to don't add a bible in the next chapter, but if you're going to talk sh*t being disrespectful and without any more goals than demoralise me, just quit and don't bother yourself with reading my story ever again. (BTW, I only got 3 reviews from last chapter, I would like to know what you thought about it ^^)**

 **I won't delay it any longer. I hope you enjoy this one. I must confess that it was quite difficult for me to write it, so if you spot anything strange or a misspelled word, PM me.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Davos I**

The waves clashed recklessly against the rocky shores of the island. A heavy rain covered Dragonstone, with thunders roaring and announcing the battle that was going to happen in a few moments. Despite being unable to see the enemy ships, who were surely having a nightmare trying to not sunk, the drums could be heard through all the island.

Davos Seaworth, known as the Onion Knight, went to an audience with his king, who had summoned him in the Chamber of the Painted Table. He made his way through the spooky corridors of the castle, eventually arriving to the doors of the room, who were guarded by Ser Richard Horpe and Ser Justin Massey. _Queen's men, that ain't be good for me._

"Good evening sers" said Davos politely

"What brings you here onion knight?" replied Ser Justin, whose voice revealed that he had a clear disgust for him.

"My orders Massey, let him in" yelled a voice coming from the chamber, sending a shiver through the knight's spine, who just got out of Davos way.

When Davos entered the hall, Stannis was alone, looking at the Westeros map that was carved in the rock with a serious expression. Before he could say anything, Stannis spoke.

"She's gone"

"Your pardon your grace? Who is gone?" asked a confused Davos.

"Melissandre. Nobody has seen her since the Lannister drums started. She has abandoned me and my cause after all. I should have thrown her to the sea like you told me the first time"

For the first time in his life, Davos saw how weak Stannis could be, a shadow of his former self.

"You're the rightful king, your grace. You're a good man, you can't give up just because the witch left" assured Davos, in an empty try of raising his spirits.

"A good man? No Davos, I'm not a good man. I left my older brother in King's Landing surrounded by vipers, leaving him and Ned Stark to die. With the red woman influence I murdered my own brother. I may be the rightful heir of Robert, but I'm not a good man, and now the gods punish me for it" Stannis gaze was now fixed at Davos. "But my blood won't pay for my sins. I have one last order for you, Davos."

"Whatever you need, my king"

"Take my daughter and leave. Bring her to safety and protect her."

Shocked by his declarations, Davos tried to discuss with him. "You grace, I can take you and your family out of the island if needed be"

"No Davos, they won't stop until my head rests on a pike, but a girl holds no claim to the Iron Throne. Besides, that damned chair has given me anything but sorrow, I don't want my daughter to die for it. Smuggle her out, I will stay and defend Dragonstone or die trying"

"And where should I take the princess? We don't have gold enough to stay in the Free Cities for long."

"You're not taking her to the Free Cities" responded Stannis, while pointing a finger towards the map. "You will take her to White Harbour. I know that they are vassals of Robb Stark, but he is the only one who calls himself king who won't kill or harm her. He is too much like his father" waving his hand, he dismissed him.

"It has been an honour to serve you, my king"

Davos rushed out of the room without looking back, going straight towards the tower were Shireen was. _If I can't save the father, I will at least save the daughter._

* * *

He went out of the room grinning his teeth, followed closely by Ser Horpe and Ser Massey, two of the few knights that he still had in his army. They left the castle and went directly to the gates that were already being assaulted by a battering ram. He rallied his men to him, and waited for the Lannisters to break the gates and enter, forming his men in a V-shaped spear wall, while his two-hundred archers rained death upon his enemies from the battlements.

A couple of thrusts later, the gates fell and chaos reigned supreme. The Lannister initial charge was fruitless, all the vanguard annihilated by the spear wall, including their general, some third or fourth removed cousin of the Lannisport families, but eventually, the bulk of the enemy forces came in, slowly pushing their way forward.

Hacking and slashing, Stannis skilfully dispatched all the soldiers who dared to engage him. He stood in the front lines for an entire hour, hand to hand with his men, but the superior numbers of the Lannisters were proving too much, and he was forced to go back when he almost got impaled by a lance who had missed his aim, but still found flesh in his left arm.

"My king, we can't hold them here" voiced Justin Massey, who was at his king left side with a bloody sword in his hand.

"We keep fighting here. Velaryon forces are untouched from battle, tell him to advance and support the right flank.".

"At once my king" responded Ser Massey before running towards Lord Velaryon. Stannis took his sword back and rejoined the fight.

* * *

" _They're retreating to the castle!_ "

" _Come back you cowards!_ "

Kevan swiftly ended a Baratheon soldier's life and looked to the distance, seeing Stannis own banner making his way back to the castle, followed by a score of soldiers. Confused about what just happened, he searched for Ser Lyle Crakehall, also known as the Strongboar, who had been in the front since the start of the battle. He found him tending to his injured men.

"Strongboar! How did that happen?" asked Kevan, with his sword pointing to the castle. "They were putting a tough fight, it doesn't make any sense for them to run like this. Unless you managed to kill Stannis, but I don't think we will be that lucky"

"Indeed, that won't be the case my Lord. But they had a valid enough reason to run" responded the strong Crakehall knight

"And what would that be?" asked Kevan incredulously

"I suppose that I am the reason"

He turned around and faced the man who talked. By the thin lines of his face, he should be in his early twenties. He had blonde hair, almost white, and his eyes were a mix of green and grey. His valyrian features made him remember Rhaegar Targaryen, son of the mad king, when he came to Casterly Rock before the Rebellion.

"I thought that Lord Velaryon was killed in the Blackwater" was the simple answer of Kevan

"And he was my Lord. My name is Aurane Waters, bastard brother of the late Lord Monford Velaryon. In the last years, my house has always choose the losing side of the wars, be it in the Rebellion or here. I'm not stupid my lord, the Lannisters will win the war, and I appreciate my life enough to don't go against them" Aurane knelt in front of him and talked. "I pledge my house loyalty to King Joffrey Baratheon, first of his name, king of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm."

Kevan looked at Ser Lyle, who just nodded at him, taking his hand out of his sword's pommel.

"Very well. You will prove your newly found loyalties towards my house and the Iron Throne assaulting the walls of the castle in the first wave. Success and I'm sure that the crown will reward you accordingly."

"Gladly my Lord" vowed Waters, leaving the Westerlanders presence and preparing his men for the final fight.

* * *

The Velaryons had switched sides in the worst possible moment. When his right flank was in the most delicate situation, the Velaryons commanded by Aurane Waters had taken them from the back and slaughtered them. With half spear wall down in a matter of seconds, the men broke. The battle was now all but lost, only one hundred of his two thousand men had make their way back to the castle, but he will never surrender. If he had to die, he won't do it like Eddard Stark did.

 _Fucking bastard, if I see him I will cut him in half, even if it is the last thing I do_.

Cursing internally, he saw the castle gates break, and a mix of red cloaks and Velaryon soldiers rushed inside, sword and spear in hand. He raised his sword and rallied his remaining men.

"Send these traitors to hell! OURS IS THE FURY!"

His men echoed him with a ruthless battle cry and charged forward, surprising the Lannister men. The clash was brutal, and for one brief moment the Baratheons seemed to push them back. But there were too few. One by one, they fell to the enemy swords, until only two of them remained.

King Stannis Baratheon and Ser Godry Farring stood alone, surrounded by Lannister soldiers. No one of them dared to attack after seeing both of them killing more than two dozen men each with a skill that very few men had.

"Lord Stannis Baratheon" told Ser Kevan, making himself visible. He was escorted by the Strongboar and the bastard of Driftmark, for Stannis complete disgust. "Your army lays dead on the battlefield. Surrender and the King will hold a just trial for you"

"A just trial? Like the one he offered to Lord Eddard? Don't fool me Ser. If your king wants my head, come here and try to take it yourself"

Stannis put himself on guard, and Ser Richard did the same. If they were to die, they will take more people with them.

Kevan looked at both the Strongboar and Aurane, before the three of them unsheathed their swords and went forward. Kevan engaged Stannis, and Horpe did the same with Waters and Crakehall.

Both of them were good swordsmen. They were far from the most prominent ones like Ser Jaime Lannister or Ser Barristan Selmy, but their dance of steel was magnificent nonetheless. They clashed swords for several minutes, taunting each other while looking for an opening. However, they got distracted when a man cried in pain. Looking at their left side, the Strongboar was struggling against Ser Richard Horpe, while Aurane Waters was being carried outside by two red cloaks with a deep wound in his shoulder. After all, if Cersei hadn't persuaded his late husband, Ser Horpe would have been part of his kingsguard.

Stannis took his advantage of that and pressed the attack against Kevan, who was now trying to defend himself, but he had lost his foothold, a fatal error in a duel, something that a master swordsman like Stannis wouldn't pass. He slashed left and right, meeting Kevan's sword, and kicked him in the guts.

Kevan fell to the ground, to the shocked look of his men, and Stannis raised his sword for the killing blow. He closed his eyes and accepted his fate.

But the blow never came down.

Stannis cried in pain and put one knee on the ground, blood pouring from behind. He opened his eyes and saw his son Lancel in front of Stannis, with his sword in hand.

"Die now traitor" voiced the young Lannister, aiming his sword for Stannis neck.

But the Baratheon wasn't going to get himself killed that easily. Gathering all the forced he had left, Stannis parried the blow and tackled Lancel, taking both of them to the ground. He took out a dagger and stabbed at Lancel's neck twice, who still had a shock expression on his face.

"After you, you blond haired little bitch" sentenced Stannis, looking at his green lifeless eyes.

"NOOOOOOO! LANCEL!" cried Kevan, who has just witnessed the death of his eldest son. He grabbed his sword back and beheaded Stannis with a single blow. He pushed the Baratheon's corpse out and held his son lifeless body, closing his eyes with his trembling fingers.

Without feeling anything but numbness, Kevan Lannister wept.

* * *

As a mere spectator, she could hear the drums of the Lannister vessels, the rams battering against the gates of the castle of Dragonstone, her home, and the cries of the remaining men dying outside. She felt scared, uncertain of what the outcome of the battle will be, she feared for father, Davos and all the people she loved. Lying against the wall, she was suddenly interrupted when someone knocked the door. She opened it and found Davos, followed with his son Devan.

"Ser Davos!" exclaimed Shireen, hugging the onion knight tightly. Of all the people in Dragonstone, he was his most trusted friend. She broke the hug and looked at the boy behind him. "Devan, I didn't thought that I will see you too" told Shireen happily.

"My princess" vowed Devan, with his cheeks burning red.

"Princess, I came here with orders of your father, the king. We must leave the city as once" said Davos with a serious face.

"What's going on Ser? How is the battle going?" asked Shireen, concerned about the welfare of his father and his men.

"I won't lie to you, Shireen. It's almost impossible that we win, they outnumber us almost three to one, and the Velaryon's have turned their cloaks when they breached the city gates. We must hurry, I have a boat with black sails waiting for us"

Without giving her more time for questions, he nodded to his son who stood behind her, and they started their way out. The castle hasn't yet fallen, and the men were still defending it, so Stannis must be alive for now. They went out of the tower were Shireen's chambers were and turned to the left, entering a small door who revealed a dark room. Davos took an oil lamp and lightened it.

"Stay close, my princess"

They went deep in the room, and stopped in front of a wall. Davos passed his lantern to Devan and looked around for a moment. He went on his knees and lifted the carpet that covered the floor, raising a cloud of dust that made all of them cough. He took an iron handle with both of his hands with all the force he could do and pushed it up, revealing hidden stairs.

Following the endless spiral staircase down, she could see more light coming, and a heavy smell of salt with it. They eventually landed on a cave that was under the castle. It was so small that a small boat could pass through the stones, something perfect for smugglers. They rushed inside the boat, and both Seaworth's started to row.

"Ser Davos, are we going to escape with this boat all the way to the Free Cities?" asked Shireen, looking at the already exhausted old smuggler.

"Don't worry princess, my son Maric is outside the cave waiting us aboard the _Black Betha_. And we aren't going to the Free Cities."

"Where then?"

"Where your father ordered me. The city of White Harbour, in the North."

They stood silence until they left the island and faced the _Black Betha_. It was a big, sturdy galley, but with black sails and under the heavy rain, it was almost impossible to spot if you weren't close. They were pulled up and greeted by Maric Seaworth.

"My princess, it is an honour to have you on board" vowed the now eldest son and heir of Davos. "Father, brother, welcome back"

"I'm glad to see you son" told Davos, patting his son's shoulder "You and your brother make me proud. Now let's go, there is no time to lose."

"Full march, to the North!" yelled Maric, and his crew started to move the galley, as the rain stopped to fall.

The last time that Davos saw the castle of Dragonstone, a banner of two gold lions on a crimson field was flying high in the tallest tower.

* * *

 **Here we are!**

 **I hope you liked the chapter!**

 **Before you say anything, yes, I know that Davos lost Allard, Maric, Matthos and Dale in the Blackwater, but I think that losing three sons is enough for him at the moment, and I wanted to keep alive another Seaworth, just for possible secondary small plotlines. Same goes for Aurane Waters, who was taken prisoner after the Blackwater in canon. I hope you don't mind, this is an AU fic after all.**

 **I only have one exam this week, so hopefully I will update soon. If all goes good, expect a new update for Thursday, even less if I can write this weekend.**

 **See you soon!**


	16. Yohn IV

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. All the characters and places belong to George R.R. Martin**

 **Heeeeeyo! I'm back!**

 **It has been way too long, and I promised that I would update like nine or ten days ago, but I was ill for an entire week and then I was totally collapsed with this chapter, I stood for hours in front of the computer without knowing how to write it, but I think that I ended it decently.**

 **Thanks for all the follows and reviews on the previous one, your support is amazing guys!**

 **Without further delay, let's go with the chapter! We're back in the Vale with Yohn facing the Corbray brothers, I hope you enjoy it!**

* * *

 **Yohn IV**

Of the few things that Yohn hated in the world, having to fight against old friends was one of them. It had happened back in the Rebellion, when they were forced to assault Gulltown, and it was going to happen now against the Corbrays.

As he went back to his army, Lord Grafton talked.

"I don't think that we should press the attack my lord. You saw Ser Lyn, he isn't the friendliest man in the Vale, but your words touched him. He loved the boy like if he was his own, he will argue with his brother, and that is good for us" told the lord of Gulltown.

"I agree with you, but they won't just turn around. We want to avoid a direct engage, superior numbers don't work effectively in closed spaces as they do in other terrains, so we will just put our archers to work and wait their charge should they do it" responded Yohn.

Gerold nodded at Yohn and they continued in silence. The other nobles were waiting for them in front of the army. They dismounted upon arriving there.

"I suppose that this means battle, my lord" pointed Ser Symond Templeton.

"It may come to that. Lord Corbray wasn't going to get convinced by anything we could say, but his brother is the real commander in his army, and he didn't take the news of Mychel's death well. They will argue for a while. We will place the archers in front and wait for them. If they chose to fight us I want them as weakened as possible before Lord Grafton charges in with the vanguard" said Yohn while tapping Grafton's shoulder.

"It will be done" answered Ser Ronnald with a determined look in his face, who had the archers and some infantry under his command.

* * *

"You must be jesting brother" spoke Ser Lyn, whose anger had started to grow at the moment his brother left the parley.

"I am the lord of Hearthome Lyn, not you. If I say that we fight, we do it" answered Lyonel plainly.

"Are you fucking deaf Lyonel?" shouted Lyn, who had lost his temper. "I don't care what that mad woman promised you, we can't support her! She is mad!"

"Listen to me Lyn!" voiced his brother back "I know that you appreciated the boy, but it's Petyr Baelish who will raise our house status. For too long have the Royce's and the Waynwood's look upon us. When Robert Arryn rules the Vale, we will be behind him as their strongest banners" said Lyonel, his greed shining in his deep green eyes.

"I will not stand for this brother. I won't fight you, but neither by your side. If you can't see reason, I'm out" sentenced the younger of the brothers.

Lyn turned his horse in the direction of Lord Royce's army, waving his hand to the amazed looks of Lyonel's four household knights who were accompanying them. However, he didn't advance more than twenty meters before hearing his brother's voice.

"Take him and put him in chains!" commanded Lord Lyonel to the mounted knights he had surrounding him, much to his other men surprise. The riders started chasing Lyn, who was now riding as fast as his mount could go.

* * *

"What the hell is happening?" told Symond, pointing his finger to the battlefield. Yohn and Gerold turned their backs and saw one rider coming to them, followed closely by fifty or sixty others. And the entirety of the Corbray army was now slowly marching.

Yohn mounted his horse and ordered the men to get ready, mimicked by his commanders who were now yelling orders too. He put himself in the front of the army and raised his hand.

"Archers ready! At my command!" all the archers took aim and waited for the signal to release.

He was almost going to lower his arm, when he saw the knight leading the enemy charge unsheathing his sword and slashing across the neck of the rider he had at his left, sending him to the ground.

It was now than he realised who that man was, and that he wasn't commanding the forces but fleeing from them.

"Archers hold! Cavalry to me!" shouted Yohn to Lord Grafton surprise.

"What do you mean Yohn? That wasn't the plan!" said the lord of Gulltown.

"This is Lyn Corbray, Gerold, and he is running from his brother's men, we have to help him. Tell the army to start moving, I'm afraid that this will be solved in the worst way" responded Yohn, who was now surrounded by a hundred knights.

"Men of the Vale, there is no time to waste. Follow me!" shouted Yohn before charging to battle.

* * *

 _Fuck Petyr Baelish_

 _Fuck Lysa Arryn_

 _Fuck you, brother_

He took his sword out and slashed from right to left, almost beheading the fool who tried to take him alive and drag him back to his brother.

 _How many idiots will dare to try to take me without a sword in their hands?_

He rode hard and fast, almost killing his horse. He raised his eyes and looked that Royce's army was now on the move, led by a hundred riders with Bronze Yohn's own banner. _I hope that he realises that I'm running, not leading them._

Both groups were now closer, less than a hundred meters between them, the faces of the first riders now clearly visible to him.

Eighty.

Sixty.

Forty.

Twenty.

Lyn closed his eyes and covered his head with his shield, lowering his sword and holding the reins with force in an attempt to don't fly when the horses collide.

"Behind you Lyn!" shouted the lord of Runestone, much to the Corbray surprise.

Before he could look, both groups clashed, sending riders from both sides flying, some of them with spears in the guts or with a head or an arm less.

Lyn's horse was killed instantly, impaled by a lance from behind that had almost pierced his leg, making him jump from his horse and fall to the ground. Somehow, he hadn't been crushed under the horses who were behind the first line, but this wasn't the time to think about that. He took his sword and joined the fray, ending two of his former comrades with a couple of blows of Lady Forlorn.

The first taste of battle didn't last for long, as Yohn had taken way more riders with him. Of the fifty riders that his brother sent behind him, only four were now retreating as the others laid dead on the field.

Cleaning his sword with the coat of a fallen rider, he went in search of Lord Royce. Needless to say, it wasn't difficult to find him, as his bronze armour was quite unique.

"Lord Royce, I thank you for rescuing me" said Lyn, earning a wide smile on Yohn's face.

"I must confess that while I fought a lot with my brothers, it never came to that" answered Yohn with a small chuckle "I suppose that you will join us now."

"Aye, a shame my brother doesn't share my point of view" responded Lyn with a mix of sadness and angriness.

"Then mount again, you will need it"

"There is something that I must tell you before your forces engage the ones of my brother" said Lyn while mounting a white steed "Don't engage the right flank in combat, overhelm the left and we will win the battle."

"How can you be so sure?" replied Grafton, intrigued by Lyn's confidence.

"Not all the knights under my brother followed his order when he demanded me in chains, they won't follow him now that he wants to kill me."

* * *

Easier said than done, but the battle was won. Just as Lyn had promised, once the left flank was completely overhelmed by spearmen and cavalry, the right flank switched sides and encircled the remaining forces loyal to Lord Lyonel, who instantly threw their weapons in surrender much to the former one disappointment.

Still, the battle hadn't come without cost. He had lost a thousand men, and five hundred were too wounded to fight any battle, and furthermore, Gerold Grafton had perished in battle after getting stabbed in the chest, leaving his sixteen year old son, Gullian, as new lord of Gulltown. Of the Corbray forces, almost all of the two thousand men who were in the left side had been wiped out, and the other four thousand were now under Ser Lyn's command.

After cleaning his bloodied sword and sheathing it, Yohn, surrounded by Lyn and Ser Symond, looked at the man who was in kneeled in front of him.

Lyonel Corbray had been disarmed in combat by his own brother, with the sword that should have been his, but he was unharmed with the exception of a small cut in the right arm that had already been treated by a maester.

"Lord Lyonel, we meet again" told Yohn with a grave voice.

Lyonel completely ignored him and fixed his gaze in his own brother and talked after spitting to the ground. "You are a fucking traitor Lyn, turning your back on your own blood."

"It was you who sent men behind me brother. I'm not the blind nor the traitor here" responded Lyn coldly.

Unwilling to let the two brothers fight over all the wrongs they had committed to each other through their entire life, Yohn raised his voice putting an end to the discussion.

"I will give you one last opportunity Lyonel" said Yohn fixing his eyes to the ones of the lord of Hearthome. "Join us, do what is right to the Vale."

"You won't harm me Yohn, you are too honourable for that. But I won't join you, nor will my men" declared Lyonel convinced of his own words.

"For the duration of the war, they're not your men" sentenced Yohn. "They will fall under the direct command of your brother, who clearly has more common sense than you. You will remain in my ancestral home of Runestone as an honoured guest until the war ends" Yohn waved his hand and Lyonel was dragged away.

They went back to the war tent and took a seat and a glass of watered wine, and discussed their next move.

"All the Vale, with the exception of the Eyrie and the few lords who are still there, be it as hostages or as supporters of Lady Lysa, is now with us. Once the siege of the Eyrie ends, we will have fourteen thousand men here, three thousand and fifty hundred that are now with Lord Redfort, and seven thousand five hundred men who are already out of the Vale. This leaves another five thousand levies who can still be mustered, so we could join the war with an army thirty thousand strong without leaving the Vale unprotected" said Yohn informing the lords who were with him.

"This is my proposition. We send riders to all the castles east of Hearthome informing them of our victory here and gathering all the men they can. Meanwhile, we march back to the Eyrie and demand the surrender of the castle, now that they have no army to come in their aid they will be forced to do so if they want to survive"

"I agree with you, there aren't any other options that to keep going" said Lyn Corbray, earning nods from all the other lords with the exception of a distracted Gullian Grafton, who was desolated after the death of his father.

The short meeting was going to end, but then Yohn, honouring his house words, remembered the conversation he had with Ser Lyn before the battle.

"Oh, Ser Lyn, I need to ask you something."

"Whatever you need, my lord"

"How did you know that the entire right of the army was going to switch sides before the battle started?"

Lyn managed a small smile and responded swiftly. "My brother forgot that I was the commander of the army, and as such, I had the loyalty of an important part of the men. The right was under my nephew and namesake Lyn, second son of my brother Lucas. I covered some of his mischiefs since he was a boy, and we always had a good relationship. He was a good friend to Mychel when he was my squire, so when he learned about his death, he wanted to join you just like I did. It's not a surprise that he rebelled against my brother, he may be young, but he isn't stupid" sentenced the knight.

Yohn just smiled and nodded to Lyn, dismissing all the lords shortly after.

Once the Eyrie was under their control, the full might of the Vale will enter the war, and the Lannisters will face the fury of the knights of the Vale.

* * *

 **So here we are! I hope you liked and enjoyed the chapter!**

 **As always, your reviews are much appreciated! I will update as soon as possible!**

 **See you soon!**


	17. Jaime I

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot, all the characters and rights belong to George R.R. Martin.**

 **Heeeeyo! I'm finally back!**

 **I know it has been a looong time without updating this story, but my keyboard broke last Friday and the new one arrived today in the early afternoon, so I started writing as soon as I got my hands on it to update it. I will try to update sooner to repay you for that!**

 **As always, thanks to everyone who read, favourited or reviewed the story, especially to the later ones.**

 **Furthermore, I would like to dedicate this chapter to one of my most "loyal" followers since the first chapter, Captain Fuckew McHugerage, whose help has been invaluable through the course of this story and now is facing a difficult time. My best wishes to you and your loved ones. This chapter is for you!**

 **Without further due, let's go with the chapter**

* * *

 **Jaime I**

If one year ago someone told Jaime than he would have escaped from Riverrun's cells at the cost of his cousin own life, his sword would have swiftly killed the man down like a knife cutting through butter.

But there he was now, rolling in the mud somewhere south of the Stoney Sept, trying to reach King's Landing protecting two of his cousins with Piper's scouts in his heels.

The first steps of their journey had gone swiftly enough. When they left Riverrun, they ended in a small boat in the river surrounding the city, rowing their way out of the garrison vision and leaving the boat as soon as they could. After that, they returned to the Tully camp, disguised as one of their own, and managed to enter the searching party that Marq Piper had organised to find them.

So yes, ironically, they were searching themselves, and that was the most brilliant plan that Jaime had witnessed in his military career. The obvious path to follow was to get out stealing some horses, but five man running through all the Riverlands with dozens of men following them had a little chance of success, so they took the most unexpected path, and it went quite well.

For a time.

After a week riding hard between Riverrun, Stoney Sept and Harrenhall, they sat camp between the Stoney Sept and the God's eye, the best place where they could have stopped for escape. Should everything have gone as planned, they would have entered the Crownlands unnoticed by neither their enemies nor their allies, and their journey to King's Landing would have been swift and easy. But it wasn't because of Marq fucking Piper.

The heir of Pinkmaiden had always been a petulant idiot, immature and impulsive in his decisions, and his friendship with Edmure Tully had only made him even more idiotic. In the political way, he wasn't to be feared nor respected, unlike his father, but despite all his flaws he had some good things.

He earned the respect and loyalty of his soldiers.

Since they had joined the party, he had seen Marq taking his meals with small groups of soldiers, asking every single one of them about their lives and ambitions, which made them feel appreciated and their morale was as high as it could be. And while it was a quality that Jaime could understand, it did him no good when, in the same day that they were going to escape, Ser Piper stepped in front of them accompanied by two of his men, with a confident smile in his face, carrying food fo the six of them.

 **Flashback**

"So for what I'm told, you're the newest ones in the company. As you may know, I'm Ser Marq Piper, your first in command, and I would like to welcome you between our ranks" told the heir of Pinkmaiden while handing a bowl with hot soup to Willem, much to the former one astonishment. "I would like to hear your story."

Even after months in a cell, Jaime was quite recognisable to anyone who had seen him before, so he just covered his face with a hood and supported himself to the nearest tree, faking his sleep, something that left Piper with a strange expression in his face.

"Excuse my brother, sir, he hasn't been the same since the start of the war" intervened Ser Vykkar, putting himself between Jaime and Marq. "My name is Harold, and he is Ryman. We are from a village near the Red Fork, where our father had a farm. Nothing too big, but sufficient for us and my little sister. Life there was good, milord, until the Mountain sacked and killed everyone there" told Vykkar, who was now silent, looking to the ground. Much to Jaime's surprise, he was a bloody brilliant actor. "We are alive only because we were hunting far away from there. When we returned to our farm after hearing the screams for help, it was already too late. Our father laid dead in the ground with his skull cracked in two, his scythe still in his hands, and our mother and sister had been raped and killed by those bastards. He hasn't spoken to anyone but me ever since" ended the knight, who looked so devastated that anyone could doubt his story.

Surprisingly, Marq put his hands in both of Vykkar's shoulders and looked him firmly in his eyes. "We will avenge your family and all of the riverlanders who had suffered at Lannister hands" told Piper, whose eyes revealed an anger that he has never expected from him. Vykkar managed a small and respectful nod, and Piper moved to Jaime instantly.

He approached and squatted in front of him. "Ryman, look at me"

Knowing that doing otherwise will only raise more suspicions, Jaime did as told while slipping his right hand to his dagger hilt, a move unseen by Piper, and prayed to don't be recognised. When their eyes met, Piper stood there, looking at him with intensity.

His face turned from a determined expression to a distorted one. And next of it, the shock of realising who this man was alerted Piper.

"The Kingsla-" shouted an alarmed Marq, but he couldn't end the sentence. In a blink of an eye, Lewys Piper was now heir of Pinkmaiden, as his older brother had fallen lifeless to the ground with Jaime's dagger across his throat. Unfortunatelly, it hasn't been fast enough, as the other two men raised the alarm before perishing to Vykkar and Symond swords.

"Fast, to the horses!" shouted Jaime, mounting his steed with a jump and signalling Willem to follow him.

"Go! I will delay them!" told Symond, grabbing a shield from the ground and raising his sword, ready for his final stand. Nodding to the faithful soldier, Jaime, Willem, Martyn and Vykkar rode fast towards the God's Eye, taking the most direct path to the Crownlands, where King Joffrey armies were.

* * *

They rode for hours, hearing the horses of their enemies at their back. And they eventually got caught by two men who had flanked them. The surprising attack had sent Ser Vykkar to the grave, being impaled with a lance with such force that his horse was sent to the ground too. But they were no match to Jaime Lannister, one of the best swordsmans in the kingdoms if not the best.

Seeing their dire situation, Jaime decided to set the horses free, distracting the scouts and giving them time enough to flee, so they continued their way on foot.

But today wasn't the best day for them.

After three hours where they were almost sure that they had successfully escaped from the scouts, dozens of howls filled the air, and they got surrounded by a giant pack of wolves. Jaime's jaw fell when he saw the one leading them, recognising it as a direwolf almost as big as Robb Stark's one.

"Stay behind me" muttered Jaime to the twins, while raising his arms up trying to calm the wolves. A futile attempt.

The direwolf jumped and sent Jaime to the ground, to the panicked look of Martyn and Willem. Putting her giant paw in Jaime's chest, her eyes met the Lannister ones, and the beast showed her teeth. Jaime closed his eyes and prayed. For the first time in the last months, the gods answered his prayers.

The wolves disbanded fast as a hundred red-armoured riders charged in, and the direwolf yellow eyes looked at Jaime one last time before fleeing herself. He stood up and looked confused at the Lannister cavalry who has come to rescue him, and he heard a familiar voice between al the turmoil.

"Cousin, it seems that wolves like you quite a lot!" told the knight in charge of the party while taking of his helmet, revealing his identity to Jaime.

"Addam Marbrand, I've never been so happy to see your ugly face" responded Jaime back, taking his childhood friend hand. In his entire life, Jaime hadn't had too many friends, as his father always said that _the Lion doesn't concern about the opinion of the sheep_ , but Addam was his cousin twice removed through his grandmother, who was a Marbrand herself, and he developed a fast friendship with him when they were children.

"You are so mean Jaime, perhaps we should return to Riverrun and not to King's Landing?" chuckled Addam. "Let's go cousin, your father waits you in the capitol and he will hang me if I return without you"

* * *

A decade ago, Ser Jeremy Mallister had fought with his brother, Lord Jason, against the ironborn who attacked Seagard, throwing them back to the rock pile of islands they call home.

And history seemed to repeat itself, as thirty Greyjoy longships approached the port of the town. With a skeleton garrison of the hundred man, Ser Jeremy had sent a rider to the Twins asking for help, and prepared for the worst.

But something unsettled him. The ironborn were famous for their prowess in the sea, being unmatched in combat. After all, only the combination of the Royal Fleet and the Redwyne fleet had been able to face them and be victorious, and it was only possible after the brilliant strategy that Stannis Baratheon had planned, trapping them between the mainland and Fair Isle. But somehow, he couldn't feel the vessels approaching as a threat. There were no drums, no screams from mad ironmen, no curses… Something strange for people known to be as civilized as the wildlings north of the Wall.

"Archers in position!" yelled the old knight.

The atmosphere tensed as the ironborn ships were closer and closer to the port. At less than fifty meters, the most unexpected thing happened.  
From the _Black Wind_ , a small boat was thrown to the sea, and five people descended to it using a rope. Carrying a white flag, the boat approached to land, and a young woman came all the way to him followed by two huge ironborn carrying heavy double-handed axes.

She stopped right in front of him with a cocky smile and talked after putting his finger right in the eagle emblazoned in his chestplate.

"Mallister" told Asha with a grave voice. "Are you Lord Jason Mallister, the killer of my brother?"

"No. My name is Jeremy Mallister, steward of Seagard and brother to Lord Jason. And the last time that a squid like you touched my armor, he died" bitted Jeremy back, whose disgust for the ironborn was well known.

"If I wanted, I could have razed this city to a pile of ashes. How many men do you have? Two hundred? I have ten times that number" sentenced Asha, her eyes piercing through the old knight's eyes. "But you're lucky that I'm not here for that."

"And what brings you here then?"

"I'm Asha Greyjoy, daughter of the late Balon Greyjoy, and I have come here to take my brother back to his rightful seat" sentenced the she-kraken.

Without stop looking to the young woman, Jeremy signalled his men to take down their weapons. "Your brother rides with the King. For what I've been told, he has been fighting with his Grace since the start of the war. Bread and salt will be distributed to you and your men, and tomorrow we will ride to the Twins, where his Grace is."

* * *

 **So here we are! Not the longest chapter I've ever written, but I think that is enough for today. The next one will be a Robb POV.**

 **Hope you liked it**

 **See you soon!**


	18. Robb VI

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. All the characters and rights belong to George R.R. Martin.**

 **Heeyo, I am back!**

 **As always, thanks to everyone who followed, favourited and reviewed this story, especially to the latter ones. I hope you enjoy the chapter, it hasn't the action of the other ones, but it was completely necessary for me.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Robb VI**

At the morning, the men under Lady Maege marched back to Harrenhall, fifteen thousand battle-hardened northmen ready to bring the winter to the Crownlands. Three thousand of them, under the command of Rodrik Forrester, where going to reclaim Maidenpool, ancestral home of the now extinct house Motoon, while the other twelve thousand would camp near the God's Eye, waiting for the Old Lion. Now it was the time for the Riverlordsº.

"Farewell, uncle" said Robb shaking his uncle's hand.

"I will do my duty, your grace" vowed Edmure respectfully.

"And if you don't I will be there to remind you" retorted Brynden behind him. "Now stop the pleasentries and let's ride, there is no time to waste" He looked at Robb briefly, nodding at him. Robb returned the nod, without being able to hide a smile in his face at his great-uncle rudeness.

He rode back to the castle with Grey Wind by his side, who hadn't stopped growing and was now as tall as a small pony.

If everything goes as planned, his uncle would be in the Reach in ten days, as he need to muster the men in Riverrun, while his northern forces would be prepared way earlier, so that left him one week of a well-deserved peace, so he decided to search for Arya.

He found her in the training yard accompanied by the Hound, who had become like her own shadow, never leaving her side despite how much she argued about it.

He approached her as soon as she dropped her sword in exhaustion.

"Hello little sister, it seems that someone in this castle has had a great time" told Robb looking at her in awe. Arya had always been a nervous girl, causing mischief everywhere she went, but looking at her training with a sword made him proud. _After all, without this sword she would be back in Lannister hands._

"Robb!" told Arya while getting up of the floor. "I thought you were busy"

"Uncle Edmure has just left for Riverrun, so I have some time to do things at a slower pace. However, I was searching for you for other reasons."

Arya frowned at that. These words were a curse for her.

"Uncle Edmure will send mother here, and once she arrives you will both return to Winterfell" told Robb with his most kingly voice, and for the first time in his live, he saw his sister just nodding in acceptance. After a few seconds, he couldn't maintain his curiosity.

"Honestly, I thought you will put up a fight for that"

Arya looked up and met Robb's eyes. "It's strange. A part of me wants to stay here and help you, but after all this time without knowing if I would see you again, I just want to go back home" responded Arya trying to hold her tears. "I just want us to be a family again, in Winterfell, with our people"

Robb hugged her tightly and held her for a while. "We will all go back, I promise. Once I rescue Sansa we will return to Winterfell and we will be a family again."

Between the low moral and the utter exhaustion from the training, after fifteen minutes in Robb's arms, Arya fall asleep in her brother embrace.

He looked up and found the Hound, who had witnessed the entire scene with a strange expression. He carried his sister and gave her to him. "Take her to bed, she needs the rest"

"Aye" nodded the Clegane.

"Your grace! Your grace!" yelled Olyvar, who came running to him, losing his breath. "Banners, banners at the eastern gate"

Alarmed, he turned back to Sandor. "Bring her back to her quarters fast and return, I may need your sword"

* * *

Robb rushed through the bridge, while more and more of his men came behind him with their swords prepared. There were only two possibilities about the situation, and both of them seemed improbable for him. The first one, and the most dreadful, was that an unknown Lannister or Tyrell host had come up through the river and managed to beat the men under Maege. Highly unlikely, but still possible. After all, there were few men in Harrenhall to hold them back before sending a raven. The second one and the one he hoped too, was that the Vale had finally agreed to enter the war and that his aunt had sent the Vale armies. When he got up the battlements and saw the knights in his doors, he found that he had been wrong.

It was true, these were Valemen. He recognised the Redfort and Royce sigils in the banners, along with some shields with the Waynwood black broken wheel on it. But there wasn't a single blue falcon.

"Who comes to the Twins and the Kingdom of the North?" yelled Robb for all to hear.

Two knights advanced of the column and took off their helms. One of them remembered him to Yohn Royce, who had visited Winterfell some years ago. An excellent swordsman, the best he ever saw until he fought with the Kingslayer, and the only man he had seen his father lost a bout.

It was precisely this man who spoke.

"King Robb, my name is Andar Royce, son and heir of my father Yohn Royce, lord of Runestone. And my companion is Ser Creighton Redfort, second son of Lord Horton Redfort. We have come here with the orders of both our fathers to swear the fealty of the Vale" responded the knight, earning cheers of the northmen present, with the exception of Robb himself.

 _Under our fathers orders? What has happened with my aunt?_

Despite his doubts, he ordered his soldiers to open the gate and went down to receive them. The joy of his men were palpable. After all the months of war, it was good to get reinforcements and not more foes to beat.

Once he was down, both knights dismounted and knelt in front of him.

"I, Andar Royce, in the name of my father Lord Yohn Royce, swear fealty to King Robb Stark. I will shield your back and keep your counsel, and give my life for yours if needed be. This I swear in the eyes of the Old Gods and the New."

"I, Creighton Redfort, in the name of my father Lord Horton Redfort, swear fealty to King Robb Stark. I will shield your back and keep your counsel, and give my life for yours if needed be. This I swear in the eyes of the Old Gods and the New."

"And I vow that you shall always have a place by my hearth, and meat and mead at my table. And I pledge to ask no service of you that might bring you dishonour. I swear it by the Old Gods and the New." responded Robb, for the joy of all the men-at-arms who had witnessed it.

"I will be honest with you. I thought that the knights of the Vale would come to my aid earlier in this war, why now? And why by the orders of your fathers and not by the one's of my aunt or cousin?" asked Robb with a serious tone, leaving both knights shocked. After an awkward moment, he remembered his courtesies. After all, even if he was a king, some things were expected about him. "Forgive my bluntness and my manners, come inside, you must be weary after the ride. I will order my men to accommodate some quarters inside the castle for you both, and help your men inside our camp. We will talk inside, if you follow me."

"Of course your grace, lead the way" vowed Andar.

* * *

They entered in the lord's solar without muttering any word. Olyvar fetched them some wine and water and got dismissed by Robb when he was done.

"I'll go straight to the point gentleman" started Robb, taking a small sip of water. "What is happening in the Vale? I've sent ravens since my father got imprisoned by the Lannisters and all I received was silence. Why come now? Why on your fathers orders and not your liege lord ones?"

Both Andar and Creighton looked at each other for a brief moment until Creighton lowered his head. Andar tapped him in the shoulder and talked, fixing his gaze in Robb.

"I'm not sure how will you take that, your grace, but it isn't a pleasant tale.  
When your father, may he be in peace, was imprisoned and latter executed, my father called for his levies waiting for a raven from the Eyrie commanding him to do so, but he only got dismissal after dismissal, orders from Lady Lysa herself to disband his armies. We could wait, but only for a time. A month ago, the lords of the Vale who felt the same way as my father gathered at Runestone. Royces, Melcolms, Redforts, Waynwoods and other smaller houses, and agreed to enter the war in your name, acknowledging you as their king, so we gathered our armies and marched to the Eyrie to parlay with your lady aunt" he paused for a moment and looked at Creighton. At the mention of Lady Lysa, his eyes had shown Robb that something was amiss. "We arrived to the Eyrie without problems. Fourteen thousand men representing more than half of the nobility in the Vale. It was then when everything turned wrong. Mychel, Creighton's younger brother, accompanied by Eustace Hunter, went up to the Eyrie to ask for Lysa for, at least, give us her blessing joining the war, even if she didn't want too. And she responded throwing him through the moon door."

"W-what?" told Robb, whose eyes had went wide and his jaw dropped. "By the Old Gods…" muttered for himself. It was true that Lysa was family, but she was a stranger to him and she had killed a messenger who was supposed to be given the guest rights, and that was a hideous crime.

"My father started to siege the Eyrie immediately. The last I know is that seven thousand men under Lord Albert Melcolm are marching to Harrenhall as we speak, if I must guess, they will be crossing the river north of Saltpants, and that my father had taken eleven thousand man to fight the Corbrays inside the Vale, leaving only three thousand to siege the Eyrie."

"I'm very sorry for your loss, ser" said Robb sincerely "We will get to the bottom of this and know what happened up there."

"With all due respect my king, I don't think that there isn't much to know about it. My brother went up as an envoy and ended a bloody mess in the flood for trying to negotiate with a mad woman" pausing for a moment, he took some fresh air in his lungs. After all, he knew that there were things he couldn't say to Robb, even if he hated Lysa with all his heart. "House Redfort will only acknowledge Robert Arryn as our liege lord if your aunt is vanished from the Vale" voiced lord Redfort's second son.

He didn't expected these words coming from him, but he understood his reasons. After all, in his place he would have probably called for Lysa's head, so he just nodded at him, setting the matter to rest.

"Very well. If you came here with five hundred men it isn't only for talking, am I right?"

"We are ready to prove our loyalty your Grace" responded Andar with decision.

Smiling at the young knight enthusiasm, he rose from his seat. "We march to war in one week, I will tell all our plans later. For now, my squire will show you your quarters, rest well."

* * *

 **Here we are! A shorter one but I hope you enjoyed it.**

 **I feel that as much as I like the "Expert assasin Arya version", it has no place in this fic, so I needed to show it. Of course, she is going to keep her sword training, but it won't be the same as being an apprentice of no-one, and I wanted to make it clear before the story advances. She is going to be a secondary character and I don't think that she will have another POV for a long time.**

 **See you soon!**


	19. Jon III

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. All the characters and right belong to George R.R. Martin**

 **Heeeeeeeyo, I'm back!**

 **I know it has been a long, long time. But I promise you, I will (somehow) end this story without abandoning it, so don't panic. Regarding the long absence.. well, two days after updating the last chapter, I started a relationship, so as you may know, these things consume almost all your free time. Basically, I didn't sat in my PC until yesterday, when I started to write this chapter.**

 **As always, thanks to everybody who followed, favourited and reviewed this story, especially to the last ones. Your support is much appreciated!**

 **It's quite a short one, but I hope you enjoy it. I can't promise you to update the next week, but I will try.**

 **I hope you like it. Let's go to the chapter!**

* * *

 **Jon III**

After more than one hour discussing with his friends, Jon's patience is running out. Since he had explained the plan that Mance Ryder had in mind, Grenn, Edd and the remaining eight black brother who were still alive, had only complained about it. The sole exception was Sam, who had been deep in his own thoughts for the entire conversation.

"This is madness Jon! They're wildlings, we can't trust them!" shouted Grenn "They killed the Lord Commander and all our brothers in the fist, how can you support their plans?"

"And we are in the middle of their camp so be more careful about how you talk. I don't want to die for your stupidity" replied Sam with a serious tone, surprising everybody. He inhaled air and gathered all his courage, and proceeded to voice his opinion of the matter.

"It is true. The wildlings and the Night's Watch had been fighting between themselves for hundreds if not thousands of years, but it hasn't always been like that."

"What do you mean Sam?" asked Jon, who was clearly interested in what his friend was going to say.

"I've been helping Maester Aemon since the Lord Commander understood that I am completely useless in battle, and I had time enough to read almost all the books in Castle Black's library. There was a time where the Free Folk and the Night's Watch where on the same side."

Needless to say, everybody was now listening to him. Despite their own opinions, they all knew Sam enough to know that his words held some wisdom, a fact that made him proud of himself.

"We all know the old legends, about the first War of the Dawn and of how Brandon the Builder built the Wall with the help of the Giants and the Children of the Forest, creating the brotherhood we are now sworn to, but there is something that almost everybody ignores. The Free Folk are direct descendants of the scouts who volunteered to live in the other side of the Wall to have a closer look to the Others."

A complete silence reigned in the tent after Sam's declarations. Unwilling to get interrupted, he rushed to end what he had to say.

"I'm not going to say if I believe in the Others after eight thousand years since they were defeated, but the fact is that this tale is in four different books that were written in different places and at different time, so in my point of view, they could be true. I don't know what happened between the people who lived south and north of the Wall, but we must suppose that for at least a couple hundred years, we were of the same folk. Why can't we be it again?"

"As much as I respect you Sam, there is so much bad blood between us. Almost no one knows what you have said to us, they only know them as rapists and looters. There is no way we can have peace between them" told Waldron Rivers, one of the many bastards with Frey blood who wandered through Westeros.

"Oh, but there is. They may have their own customs, but they need to get south of the Wall if they don't want to perish, and in a time of need, even the most unthinkable things can happen. The Free Folk needs to move South, and the North is fighting for his independence from the Iron Throne. One needs to move and the other needs men who can fight. Thus, I see a possibility. And I trust in Jon. He saved our lives when Mance found us, we owe it to him. If he says that we need to remain here and that he will get us out of here alive, I will follow him" told Tarly with decision.

"I don't know how you do it with this long face of yours, but it seems that Sam is in love with your pretty curls" said Grenn chuckling at Jon. He paused for a moment and felt his friend's eyes piercing at him, expectantly.

"I don't like it and I don't trust the Wildlings, but I owe you a favour and you are my friend. I will wait here, you better don't get me killed, Snow"

"Alright alright" responded Edd while rolling his eyes "We get it. We stay and Jon leaves. You better hurry and get us out of here."

Jon looked around the tent, meeting the nods of all his brothers. "I won't fail you brothers, this I swear."

"Go Jon, the sooner you leave, the sooner you come back" sentenced Sam.

Jon nodded at him and left the tent, looking for the small party who was going to escort him to the forests near the Wall.

* * *

He and Ghost arrived at Mance tent, in the centre of the immense encampment, finding him surrounded by chieftans and renowned warriors of the different wildling clans. But what distracted him wasn't their presence, but the one of two womans he had met before. The stunning blonde who had left him speechless and the redhead who was behind Mance when he fought Varamyr.

"Jon Snow, we thought you will never come" voiced the leader of the Free Folk, gaining his attention.

"It's not easy to convince my brothers to stay there while I go back home, as I suppose it wasn't easy for you to convince your people to trust in the word of a member of the Watch" replied Jon, with Ghost at his side.

"Ha, there you're right" said Mance while looking at a Thenn with a sombre expression in his face. "I told you Styr, he may be a crow, but he has balls of steel and is trustworthy enough."

 _Styr. That's the magnar of the Thenn. Doubtless to say, if I try to escape in my way back, he will kill me without a second thought._

He shuddered at his own thoughts and fixed his eyes on Mance.

"Who is to come with me?"

"Straight to the point. I like it" chuckled the former member of the Watch. He moved next to the people surrounding him and introduced them all.

"These are your companions. Styr, magnar of the Thenn, be a good boy and he won't crack your skull in half" said Mance, earning a laughter from the man behind him. He turned back and patted his shoulder.

"This ugly red-bearded fellow is Tormund Giantsbane, and at his side is Yggrite, one of the best archers this army has to offer. My wife's sister Val will come with you too. Karl and Marx will come with you too."

"Karl and Marx?" asked Jon. He knew the other four members of his company, or at least had heard about them, but he had never heard those names.

"Two brothers from the Ice River Clans. Strange fellows with a stranger way to talk, but good enough with a sword" answered Tormund looking briefly at them before whispering in Jon's ear. "Not that we will appreciate the company of those fuckers."

Jon blinked his eyes twice and looked at Mance, but he talked before he could do it.

"Enough talking. You all have a mission to follow, get him back to the Wall and he will get us South of it. Go now"

Tormund threw a bag full of supplies to Jon, who catched it at mid-air, and started to walk.

"C'mon crow, we ain't carry you there"

 _This journey will be long. Way too long._

Without further due, Jon carried the bag at his back and started walking, closely followed by Ghost, who was eyeing him with curiosity.

* * *

He opened his eyes only to find darkness, shuddering while a gust of cold wind passed through his back.

 _Where am I?_

He felt dizzy and had a terrible headache, which made him unable to think with clarity. After a couple of minutes dancing between consciousness and unconsciousness, he realised that his hands and legs were tied in an X shape to a humid and cold wooden cross.

 _What has happened?_

He tried to concentrate all the strength he had to get rid of the ties. But it was futile. It doesn't matter how strong you are, you can't break a pair of iron handcuffs.

 _Why am I tied like this?_

Then, he heard footsteps coming at him. He looked at his right and spotted a tenuous light coming from a distant torch, carried by someone whose silence disturbed him.

Eventually, the mysterious man was visible to him, and his pale eyes left him frozen.

The man lighted a few more torches that were placed in the walls, revealing a circular, windowless room made of dark stone and wooden floor. He left the torch and grabbed a small knife with a strange brightness, and approached him.

"Brandon Stark, welcome to my humble refuge" said the young man whose eyes revealed a madness and cruelty he hadn't seen before. "Let me introduce myself. My name is Ramsay Bolton, lord of the Dreadfort after the idiot of your brother executed my father. While I appreciate his eagerness to make me lord of my rightful seat, I don't quite like the way he sent his men to chase me, and someone has to pay for that."

Bran eyes went wide while Ramsay's knife hand approached his skin and he felt the cold steel in his bare chest.

 _Gods, I didn't realised I was almost naked until now._

"But before we start to play, I have one last gift for you"

Ramsay's arm went behind the cross he was tied to. He grabbed something and raised it, putting it right in Bran's face.

His heart almost stopped.

 _Summer_

"You recognise it, don't you boy? It's your fucking wolf. I lost my last two men trying to kill the beast, but I guess that wolves don't fare well when a pair of swords cross him."

"Su… Summer" said a shocked Bran with an irregular breath, tears falling from his cheek.

"Don't worry, _my Lord_ , you have a last chance to prove me that wolves are sturdier than this" joked Ramsay looking at him in the eyes. He putted his knife on Bran's skin for a second time.

"Some houses of Westeros have Valyrian steel swords. Others have axes. But we, the Boltons, were more creative. This is _Skinner_ , our Valyrian steel flaying knife. I hope you enjoy his company" sentenced Ramsay with a cruel smile.

The knife pierced Bran's skin, and a thin trail of blood went from his chest to his belly button and all the way down to the floor.

"Once I'm done with you, your unskinned corpse will hung from the highest tower of the Dreadfort, so your brother finally knows what happens when you come against me."

Ramsay cut a large piece of skin, and Bran's screams filled the room.

* * *

 **So here we are!**

 **I know, I'm a cruel little bastard, and while I don't like Brandon at all, trust me when I say that it saddened me to flay him, but well, it can't be all good for the Starks, doesn't it?**

 **Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Have a nice week!**

 **See you soon!**


	20. Daenerys II

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. All the characters and right belong to George R.R. Martin**

 **Heeeeeeeeeeeyo! I'm back!**

 **I know it has been way too long, tomorrow would be my second month without publishing any chapter, but I've been busy with exams and family stuff, so I had no time to write until three days ago, when I started this chapter. Furthermore, I'll start working tomorrow, so I will have almost no time to write, but I hope that I can update this story in a couple of weeks. For all of those who panicked and thought that I left it: Don't worry, I said it before, but I will NEVER abandon the story. As a fanfic reader, there is nothing that angers me more than seeing and uncomplete story without prospect of ending, so even if it takes me years to end this, I will.**

 **As always, thanks to all of those who read, followed, favourited or reviewed this story, your support is amazing and we're now over 100k views and 500 follows, something that really amazes me and I feel very happy about it.**

 **Regarding the last chapter... well, I know some of you didn't like at all that Bran turned into a peeled orange, but he isn't dead yet and, truth to the told, his fate is yet undecided.**

 **I hope you can forgive me for the long wait.**

 **I'll leave you with the chapter, reviews would be appreciated!**

* * *

 **Daenerys II**

Taking Mereen in such a way had been risky, after all, gambling about a slave revolt when they were surrounded by soldiers, could have gone wrong, but the gods knew it had been worth the try. Furthermore, her dragons had had their first taste of battle, something pretty useful considering her plans regarding the reconquest of Westeros.

When she had arrived, she was clearly outnumbered by the defenders, but after throwing all the shackles of the former slaves she had freed with a couple of catapults, the slaves inside the city had revolted against their masters, capturing and killing all of those who they could get their hands on and opening the city gates for her army. It wasn't long before her troops had the city under control. By now, all the masters, the small portion who remained alive, were under the vigilance of Grey Worm's men, and the slavers were free citizens of Mereen.

But even with a swift conquest of the city, not everybody had left the fight unscathed. Fifty unsullied had perished in the fight, and Ser Jorah had been injured along with a couple hundred of men. She could vividly remember the brief conversation she had with Jorah in the infirmary.

"I will never understand why you needed to be the first one to cross the city gates, Jorah" told Dany to the northern, looking at him with the same look a mother looks at her children. He was bedridden, covered in blood, with an arrow piercing through his thigh. But the worst part was his left arm.

When he had passed the gates, followed closely by Daario and his second sons cavalry, a large and strong man suited in a full plate armour had challenged him. Their duel lasted long, and they traded blows for more than twenty minutes, ignoring the fighting around them, but Jorah had been victorious, cleaving his sword through the man's chin after getting a blow to his shield arm. When the city was taken, they had learnt that the man was known as Zedahr zo Loraq, head of house Loraq, commander of the city defence and one of the most feared men in the city.

"It wasn't the first time I did it, khaleesi. And I would do it again if that meant your victory" responded a weak Jorah. She nodded at him with a hint of a smile in her face and left, leaving Jorah to rest and recover of his injuries.

The next few days had been difficult for Daenerys, and they had kept her busy. Judging and executing former masters, calming down the slaves who wanted revenge against the former masters families, including women and children, looking for funds to repair the city gates… there was so much work to be done before leaving the city to reconquer Westeros, but fortunately she wasn't alone in this, having Barristan, Grey Worm, Missandei and Daario at her side, now that Jorah was unable to guide and protect her as he had done in the past.

But all her plans had suddenly changed. After a week in Mereen, Missandei had burst in her chambers with utter terror in her face.

"My Queen, there is something you need to see"

"What's happening, Missandei?" asked Dany, half asleep.

"I think it's better if you see it for yourself"

She had never seen Missandei like that, so she woke up from her bed and dressed in a hurry, following her friend close behind. It turned out that she didn't need to walk that much to see why her friend was alarmed. From the balcony of her own chambers, she could see a massive army in front of the city gates. Their armours shone bright at the sun, and she could see that they brought the biggest beasts she had ever seen, apart from her dragons.

"I want everybody in my council chambers now. Send Grey Worm to the nursery, if Ser Jorah can walk, I want him too" told Daenerys with a serious face.

"Of course, my queen"

* * *

When Grey Worm came inside the chambers, helping Jorah, who was walking with a stick, Dany started the meeting.

"I guess we all know why I have summoned you" started the Targaryen, earning nods from all his advisors. "There are some questions that need to be answered before I take a decision about what to do. First of all, someone knows who they are?"

"I know them, your grace. I've seen these banners before and I fought against them in the Stepstones, back in the time of your grandfather. They are the Golden Company, the best sellsword company at this side of the Narrow Sea."

Silence fell upon the room, and Barristan continued his speech.

"Their numbers are around ten thousand. The army is organised, you haven't faced a force like them before. They have cavalry, archers and good heavy infantry, a worthy opponent for the Unsullied. But this is not what unsettles me."

"What are you talking about, ser?" asked Jorah.

"For the last years, they refused all the offers they had. Even Cersei Lannister tried to hire them, but she was unsuccessful. For all I know, they are here for his own decision"

"Maybe they heard about our young queen and want to swear fealty for her" responded Daario "After all, they are a company of exiled Westerosi, and Daenerys is his best option to return home."

"In an objective point of view, that may be. But I have a bad feeling about this" replied the old Kingsguard.

"They were once your enemies, Ser Barristan, it is normal that you don't like them" told Dany, and all the eyes in the room turned to her "But we can't know his intentions unless we ask them. Daario and Grey Worm will take a white flag and ride out of the city, offering a parlay here, in the Great Pyramid, with the generals of the Company."

"I will go alone, your grace" said Daario while getting up of his chair and adjusting his arakh to his sword belt.

"The queen commands come before your wishes, Daario" replied Jorah, glaring at him.

"We are sellswords, Ser Jorah. We don't have the same honour as your knights do. If they are hostile, they will kill me at the same time I go out of the city. Why risk two of his commanders rather than one?"

"And why should you be the one I send out then?" asked Dany, fixing his lilac eyes with the sellsword.

"Look at your options, your Grace. Missandrei is a woman, and while I respect her, it will be considered as an insult to send a woman to a parlay, unless it is yourself, which would be a stupid decision. Ser Barristan is way too valuable for you, Ser Jorah is injured and Grey Worm isn't diplomatic at all. I'm your last option, my Queen" responded Daario, bowing before her when he finished.

Dany looked at all of her advisors, and realised that Daario's words were true. "Very well, take your horse and meet the Golden Company's generals"

"If I may, your grace, I will suggest that you offer the parlay in front of the city gates, at our archer's range. Nothing tells them that you mean them harm, inviting them inside your city, and when a parlay is offered before a battlefield, it usually is held in middle ground" added Ser Barristan.

Dany nodded at his Kingsguard and dismissed the meeting.

Should the Golden Company join her, she would have enough men to launch a campaign to Westeros, and reclaim her birthright.

* * *

"From now on, you're no longer _Young Griff_ , Aegon" told Connington to the young man who was like a son to him. "Your father would be proud of you, my king"

Aegon moved and held Jon in a tight embrace, resting his head in the former master of Griffin's Roost shoulder. "You are like a father to me Jon, don't call me king while we are in private. Not you."

They broke the hug and recomposed themselves, leaving the tent together soon after. Aegon's hair was no longer dyed blue, it now shone bright at the sunlight like a silver vein, and his lilac eyes all but confirmed his Targaryen heritage.

It was now, going towards Daenerys envoy, when he remembered everything he had gone through. Everything that made him king.

For what he had been told by Septa Lemore and Jon, it was the spider, Lord Varys, who smuggled him as a babe from King's Landing at the same time that the Lannister troops started to sack the city, escaping from the Usurper and going to exile. So he had adopted a new identity along with Jon Connington, _Griff and Young Griff_ , and dyed his hair blue to avoid hidden knives in the back.

And now, after sixteen long years, they were ready. His aunt had three dragons, the Unsullied, the Second sons and more free men who were willing to fight for her, and he had the Golden Company. More than twenty thousand men ready to conquer Westeros, less that what Aegon I had.

 _Everything starts today. The Seven Kingdoms will be ruled again by the dragons with fire and blood._

His thoughts were interrupted when Jon rested his hand on his shoulders.

"Stop daydreaming Aegon, we're here" said Connington, pointing his hand to the man who was riding to them with a white flag. Before the rider could arrive, he found himself flanked by the top officers of the Golden Company, lead by Harry Stickland followed closely by Laswell Peake, Black Balaq and Tristan Rivers.

Eventually, the rider arrived in front of them and dismounted. He left the white flag hanging on his horse's armour. He had a cocky smile on his face and looked at everyone from head to toe before speaking.

"My name is Daario Naharis, commander of the Second sons and advisor to the Queen Daenerys Targaryen. I'm not the most diplomatic man around, so let's go straight to the topic. Who's in charge and why are you at the doors of my queen's city?"

 _Well, nobody can tell that this one tries to confuse you with words_

"I'm Harry Stickland, captain-general of the Golden Company. We can say that I'm the one in charge of this army" said Harry with a wide grin. "But we will only say why we are here to your Queen, not you" sentenced the leader of the Company.

"At noon, in front of the city gates. Each party consists in five men. Do you agree?"

Harry looked briefly at Jon and Aegon, and both of them did a slight nod.

"At noon then."

* * *

As promised, each party met in front of the city gates of Mereen at midday, when the sun could cook a man inside his armour. A tent had been erected by Daenerys men, with the Targaryen banners flying proudly above it, under the watch of Drogon, the enormous black dragon who seemed to follow the path of Balerion the Black.

Dany was already inside the tent, flanked by Ser Barristan, Missandei, Jorah Mormont and Daario. It didn't take long for the Golden Company party to arrive. It consisted of Harry Stickland, Rolly Duckfield, Black Balaq, Jon and Aegon, the latter one wearing a hood that hid his hair and eyes.

Introductions were made, presenting Jon and Aegon as Griff and Young Griff respectively, and negotiations begun.

"So you wish to return to Westeros, but you refuse me as your leader. If it's no bother" told Daenerys sarcastically "enlighten me and tell me why you came to seek me in the first place."

"That wasn't my decision at all, Queen Daenerys"

A perplexed look came across the entirety of Dany's party. After all, if the Golden Company wasn't there by their own, they were sent by someone else.

"And whose will brought you here?" asked Barristan before Daenerys could, holding his hand at the pommel of his sword.

"Mine" voiced the hooded men behind Harry. He went forward and the four men of the Golden Company knelt in front of him.

Aegon took out his hood, and Barristan's jaw dropped to the floor. He was a copy of Rhaegar, with Rhaella's cheekbones, but a copy of his father nonetheless.

"My name is Aegon Targaryen, sixth of my name, rightful King of Westeros. And I came to you, dear aunt, because the only way to reclaim the Seven Kingdoms is to do it together, with Fire and Blood."

* * *

 **So here we are! I hope you enjoyed the chapter!**

 **I know that those who always look at the canon timeline will be like: What the actual f..., but this is an AU, I want Aegon in this story and I want them back in Westeros soon, and trust me when I say that I think that you will enjoy it!**

 **Hopefully I will update in a couple of weeks, but it will depend of the amount of work I have back in the hotel**

 **See you soon!**


	21. Davos II

**Heyo! I'm back!**

 **It has been more than a month since I updated the story, but my job kept me busy and I was ill for almost two weeks, as I injured my backbone in the work, so it was impossible for me to write anything since I updated Dany's POV.**

 **First of all, thanks to all of those who followed, favourited or reviewed the story, specially to the last ones. Your support is much appreciated!**

 **It's not the first time I tell this, but please, if there is something you don't like about the story, you can leave a review with the respect I deserve as a writer and as a human being, PM me or just stop reading. I know that not everyone will like this story, it's impossible, but if I receive another review like "OMG you're retarded and a complete dipshit" again, I will just remove the review. It doesn't help anyone if you just disrespect me in such a way, it only discourages me from writing and updating. That doesn't mean that I will delete those reviews where people doesn't like the story, in fact, there are a few of them posted, but I won't stand for disrespectful people anymore. I hope you understand me.**

 **Let's not delay this any further.**

* * *

 **Davos II**

At least, after all the suffering and setbacks, something good happened to him. Once the storm eased, a gentle breeze helped the _Black Betha_ on his way northwards, out of the Lannister vessels sight and to safety. Even if Winterfell and Dragonstone hadn't been allies, no direct conflict had happened between them, and northerners valued their honour, they wouldn't harm any child, even if she was a princess. The worst possible thing they would do was marry her off to a landed knight or minor lord, but as long as it put her out of danger, Davos would accept it.

They sailed fast and swiftly, as the wind accompanied them. In less than a week, they briefly stopped at Gulltown, seat of house Grafton, in order to resupply, leaving the city in less than three hours.

Almost two weeks after that stop, Davos felt unsettled. When he was a smuggler, he had been in Gulltown more than once. _It was probably one of the easiest harbours to dock when you knew who to befriend or avoid_ , but he had never seen the harbour like that. More than thirty war galleys were docked in port, being supplied by armed men and sailors alike, and the insides of the city were much the same. The Vale was preparing for war, and considering that, along with Dorne, it was the only kingdom who had declared neutrality in this war, Davos was rightly concerned. After all, should the Vale join the fray at the side of the Lannisters, the Starks would be doomed. And if Robb Stark died, Shireen would come next.

However, his thoughts were interrupted, as the wind changed abruptly and almost broke the veils of the galley. Looking up, he noticed that they finally reached the Bite, their last step before White Harbour.

The seas there were treacherous, almost like the ones back in the Stormlands. The stormy weather and the rocky shores weren't good companions when one needed to sail swiftly.

"Lower the sails! To the oars!" voiced his son behind him. He turned back and smiled at Maric. His son had proved his value to him and to his deceased king, and he was a captain whose men loved and respected. But his smile soon faded when he remembered his other elder sons.

Dale was everything a father wanted from a firstborn. Loyal to fault, clever and dutiful, he had been at his side since he became Stannis squire, counselling him and giving him his support. After marrying, Stannis had gifted him with the command of the _Wraith_ , a warship with more than fifty sailors aboard. His ship had been the first to enter the Blackwater rush, even before his own and Salladhor's one. He could vividly remember how his ship turned to ashes when the wildfire engulfed the bay in green flames, cremating everyone inside it, before reaching his own.

Allard had been the warrior of the family. Even if he wasn't a bad sailor, he had always felt comfortable around a sword, earning a place in King Stannis own guard, who he had worshipped since he was a child. He disembarked with him and assaulted the beach in front of the mud gate, killing enemies like a knife through butter until a unlucky arrow had found an aim on his neck.

But of all his children, it was Matthos who pained him the most. The only one of his children who had converted to the Red god, and the one who was at his own vessel when the battle for King's Landing took place. Mere seconds after seeing the ship of his firstborn explode in green flames, both he and Matthos had been sent flying from the hull. He hadn't seen him or his corpse since then.

Hiding his grief, he went back to the cabin to check how the princess was.

* * *

She couldn't understand why Davos loved the sea so much. Staying in the deck was way too dangerous for her, so she was forced to stay inside the small cabin for the entire trip. Eventually, Davos or Maric would come to visit, but she spent alone most of her time, as they both had duties to attend. She didn't mind being alone, after all, she had been alone most of her time in Dragonstone too, but at least, she had the Maester and her books.

She wasn't overly surprised when Davos knocked at the door and entered the cabin.

"Good morning my princess" vowed the former smuggler "I hope you slept well"

"As well as possible, Ser Davos. I have the most comfortable bed in the ship, but this isn't a castle after all, isn't it?" smiled Shireen. She had grown fond of Davos after all the years he had been at her father's side.

"We have just reached the Bite, my princess. It's the last part of our trip, but also the most dangerous. Some of my old colleagues had drowned in its waters, so please.."

"Don't worry Ser, I won't go out of the cabin unless you tell me too" replied Shireen. Davos smiled fondly at her and made his way out, but he was stopped by her.

"Something is troubling you, ser" asked Shireen, whose deep blue eyes were now fixed with Davos ones.

Davos lowered his head, holding his tears. "A father shouldn't outlive his sons, my princess" answered the old knight, whose broken voice saddened her.

"I know nothing about the grief you must be suffering now, but I will never forget that your sons fought and died for my father, Ser Davos. It's impossible for me to bring them back, but if I can do anything to soothe your pain, please let me know" said Shireen. She got up from her bed and hugged him fiercely, surprising the knight.

After all, how could she let the man she considered as a second father suffer in such a way?

"You're too kind for this cruel world, my princess."

* * *

The white, thick walls of White Harbour could be seen from afar. Davos made a sigh of relief, the most dangerous part of their trip was almost over.

"Maric! Set the sails with our sigil and prepare the crew to dock once we arrive at port" yelled Davos to his son, who nodded and started to distribute the tasks to his men.

As they were approaching the city, and with the mermaids of the Manderly banners now visible, he remembered the last time he was in the city.

It had been a long time, too long that more than half the people he had met in the city were now with the Seven. Two years before the Rebellion, his somehow friend Salladhor had assaulted a Braavosi ship and reclaimed all his goods. It hadn't been an easy task, even for him, as the Braavosi guarded their ships fiercely, but all the jewels, silks, spices and other goods made it worth. But even all these goods paled compared to the small Valyrian steel knife he had found. Saan's original plan was to keep it, until he realised that there was something carved in the simple wooden handle of the knife. A sigil of a man nailed in a cross.

Doubtless to say, nor he or Davos knew who the owner of the knife was, but he would surely pay a good price to recover it. After some investigation, they found that it belonged to house Bolton of the North, and arranged a meeting with the knife's owner in the city.

It had been Davos work to enter the city unseen, as Salladhor's head had a good bounty on it. Davos set the terms of the trade, telling to the hooded man with pale eyes to meet Saan in the outskirts of the city.

He never met the man again, and he didn't want to, but Salladhor left the North being one of the wealthiest pirates in the whole known world.

It wasn't long before they dropped the anchor in White Harbour's docks, but before he nor any of his men could disembark, a dozen of soldiers were in the docks waiting for them.

"I am Ser Marlon Manderly, cousin to Lord Wyman Manderly, Lord of White Harbour. What business brings a ship of Lord Stannis army to the Kingdom of the North?" voiced the tall man with a Manderly mermaid on his chest, whose grey eyes and hair gave him the appearance of a fearsome warrior.

"My name is Davos Seaworth, and I don't come here as an envoy of King Stannis but to beg for the protection of the North and its king."

"I know you, Ser Davos. And not only the stories about how you saved Storm's End during the Rebellion. Why would you seek the protection of the North with your survival instincts and the loyalty you have for your king?" asked the Manderly suspiciously

"He isn't asking the protection for him but for myself, ser" told a girl's voice behind him. Davos closed his eyes and sighed before turning around, where he saw Shireen looking and smiling at him. She turned his head to the Manderly knight and spoke.

"I am Shireen Baratheon, firstborn daughter of the deceased King Stannis Baratheon, and I beg for your help to shelter me against the people who would see King Robb's head and my own on a spike".

Marlon looked at the girl in awe and saw the famous greyscale scars on the little girl's face. Nodding at Davos, he escorted him, Shireen and 4 of their men inside the city and towards New Castle.

Despite the war, White Harbour flourished. Merchants from the North, the Vale and Essos could be seen all over the place, and the city held a beauty she hadn't seen before. They eventually arrived to New Castle and entered the Mermaid Court, where Lord Wyman Manderly was waiting for them.

"Lady Shireen, welcome to the city of White Harbour, the most beautiful and prosperous city in the Kingdom. What brings you to my halls?"

"My Lord" curtsied Shireen "My father, blessed in his memory, sent me and Ser Davos to seek the protection of King Robb Stark. My home has been sacked and occupied by the Lannisters, and my father and his loyal men slaughtered" said the young girl to the worried face of the Manderly.

"These are grave news indeed…" _now that Stannis is out of the game, the Lannisters can field all their men against us._

"You and your companions shall have my hospitality. I will send my fastest raven to the king and he will decide what to do. For now, eat this bread and salt and join me at my table at dinner, I would like to hear what has happened in Dragonstone with more detail."

"We will gladly accept your generosity, my Lord" said Shireen before leaving the court and being guided to her new quarters.

Finally, they made it.

* * *

 **So here we are!**

 **It wasn't the longest chapter nor the one with more action, but I wanted to write some interaction between Davos and Shireen, and also to write something about Davos old adventures as a smuggler.**

 **I eagerly wait your reviews and hope you liked it!**

 **See you soon!**


	22. Bran II

**Heeeyo! I'm back!**

 **Well, last chapter had almost 0 feedback (Thanks jean d'arc and Brian H. H. for writing your reviews, I appreciate it very much!), so I don't truly know if you liked it or not, but I hope that you did.**

 **Also, welcome to the new followers of the story, I hope you enjoy it until the final chapter.**

 **I know I posted like a week ago, but I was really motivated to write this chapter, so here you have it!**

 **Without further delay, probably one of the most expected POVs, a Bran one. Will he die? Will he survive? Read and see it for yourself!**

* * *

He opened his eyes but saw nothing. It was dark. It always was dark. But he prefered it, because when the torches were lighted, nothing good came with it.

He had lost the notion of time inside of this… tower? He couldn't be sure where he was, but he supposed it must be somewhere between Castle Cerwyn and the Hornwood, Ramsay couldn't carry him for long while avoiding the soldiers chasing him.

Part of his torso had been flayed, along with barely all his right arm. He felt weak, hungry and thirsty, he didn't even know how he was still alive, but should he escape, he would take revenge.

 _Even if it is the last thing I do, I swear by the Old Gods that I will kill him in such a gruesome manner that he will wish to have never been born._

"Oh, the little pup has awakened" murmured Ramsay, hidden behind the wooden cross that held Brandon. He lit a torch and proceeded to do the usual ritual before flaying him. He lighted the remaining torches while humming an old, creepy song. When he was done, he took _Skinner_ and pressed it against Bran's chest.

"What are we going to peel today, _my Lord_ " told the madman sarcastically "Would you like your fingers? Your hand? Or perhaps move to the other arm?" he laughed.

Bran mustered the strength he could and spitted at Ramsay's face, smirking after doing the deed.

"I will see you die at my feet, Snow" told Bran defiantly.

Ramsay retaliated by punching him in the jaw, so hard that a couple of teeth fell to the floor. He took him by the neck and whispered in his ear.

"And how are you going to achieve that, little brat? You're all by yourself down there, and no one knows where you are. No, _Lord Stark,_ I will kill you… but not today" smirked Ramsay, who then proceeded to flay the right vambrace of Bran, whose screams of agony could be heard from a mile away.

"When I'm done with you, I will take your bitch of a mother and flay her, but not before raping her like the whore she is!" shouted Ramsay, who kept flaying his victim.

He started laughing maniacally, his eyes open wide, and took out a large piece of skin, covered in the Stark blood.

"You are a wolf, aren't you? Don't you want your meal, little pup?" said the Bolton bastard, who put the piece of skin in Bran's mouth and forced him to swallow it, almost choking in the process.

Seeing the little boy broken, with his mouth full of blood and half upper body unskinned, gave Ramsay more pleasure that hunting those peasants with his dogs.

"Good bo-.." started Ramsay

With a heavy "thud", the lifeless body of the cruel maniac fell to the floor, with a pool of blood under it.

"By the Seven…." murmured his saviour, before turning around and yelling "Send Desmond to Cerwyn now! Lord Stark has been flayed alive by this savage and will need all the medical assist he can get"

He removed his shackles and took him as gently as he could.

"You're safe now, my Lord" told the knight, but Bran had already fallen into unconsciousness.

* * *

An entire moon, and the Bolton bastard kept eluding them. They had followed him from the Hornwood to the west, but they lost the track after crossing the river, close to Castle Cerwyn, much to the frustration of he and his men.

After that, they divided into four different groups. Even with that, they outnumbered the bastard clearly, who had been seen running with only two of his men after the skirmish between Hornwood and the Broken Branch.

The vast plains and deep forests of the North had a beauty, in his own way, but chasing brigands and criminals through them with the usual cold wind and snows, was a total pain in the ass. However, not everything was for naught, as the hounds seemed to recognise the scent they were chasing and guided them inside the southern part of the Wolfswood, halfway between Cerwyn and Winterfell itself. It was there when Ser Wyman, firstborn son of Ser Bartimus, and named after the same man his father saved during the battle of the Trident, saw the remains of a fierce fight.

He had already heard about the disappearance of Brandon Stark three days past after meeting with a patrol of Stark outriders who were searching for him, and by all the reports and information they provided them, the dead woman could very well be the young lord companion.

He dismounted and approached, biding his men to find any trail of blood or footsteps that could give them any clue about the whereabouts of the Stark Lord. Using his hand to cover his nose from the corpse smell, he did a careful analysis of the former spearwife. It was obvious that she had put up a fight, as she had claimed the life of a poor idiot who had died with a lance through the neck, before being taken down. However, he didn't see anything else of importance around the two corpses and was almost going to order their men to return to the search before one of them called for him.

"Ser, you need to see this" told his ten-year-old squire Ben, whose face was pale as the snow that was falling. He followed him with his men close behind, and just in the border of the clearance, the squire pointed his finger to a high and dense bush.

It was imperceptible from afar, but once you were close to the bush, the blood was visible in its leaves, and he and his men took out of there the remains of two men, or a man and a half if you were accurate, and a headless direwolf with a knife in the stomach. Despite the horror, not everything was bad, as a blood trail could be followed between the small bushes and fallen leaves that covered the mud.

"To the horses men, we will follow the blood until we found that bastard and rescue our lord!" yelled Ser Wyman "Don't look so grim Ben, you did a great job and I'm sure that Lord Wyman will praise and compensate you after we tell him that we found Lord Stark thanks to you" he said to his squire, who was still at a lose of words, tapping his shoulder.

The blood trail guided them out of the Wolfswood as it was expected, _there is nothing inside the Wolfswood where he could take anyone, and much less survive to the night,_ and all the way to the east. Unfortunately, the trail was almost non-existent as they arrived to the Kingsroad, but they followed the direction nonetheless, finding a solitary house in the horizon.

"It's almost dark, we will go there and hope that it's abandoned so we can take shelter inside of it. We will continue our search at first light" ordered Wyman to the approval of his tired men.

But when they were at a hundred meters of the house, someone inside of it screamed. It wasn't a single and fast scream of someone who had fallen or stuff like that, but a scream of the agony of being tortured. A scream he knew well, considering that the Wolf's Den was now a prison and that some of the practises done inside of it weren't honourable at all.

"Desmond, you will stay here with Ben. If we don't return here in an hour, ride to Castle Cerwyn and call for aid. Rick, Ern and William, come with me"

Covered by the darkness of the night, they silently approached the house and then the screams ceased. Having a strange feeling in his gut, Ser Wyman ran directly to the house, leaving his stunned men behind, who started running after him.

The door was slightly open, and he didn't hesitate to enter with his sword drawn and prepared for battle.

"Don't you want your meal, little pup?"

His blood froze at the image he was witnessing. A young boy tied to a cross, and the bastard in front of him. His blood boiled and he advanced forward, ready to end this.

"Good bo-"

But the bastard couldn't end his last words with a sword piercing his skull and coming out through his mouth.

* * *

 **A week later**

A raven had been sent to Winterfell and White Harbour, informing about the death of Ramsay Snow and the rescue of Bran Stark, and riders were going to Moat Caitlin to inform about everything to Ser Rodrik Cassel, who if the last reports were correct, was waiting in the ancient fortress to cross the Neck when the king deemed it necessary.

He had guarded him since they arrived to Cerwyn in the middle of the night. The maester was totally speechless, how Bran was still alive was beyond his knowledge, but he treated him as best as he could. After five days taking Milk of the Poppy and sleeping almost the entire day, the Stark had regained almost all his strength, but he had remained stoic, only muttering angry words and glaring at everyone who wasn't him or the maester.

 _He had suffered too much, his body will never recover completely, but is his mind what will take time to heal, if it heals at all..._ thought the saddened knight.

"Ser Wyman" told Brandon

"Yes, my Lord? Do you need something?"

"Call for the maester, I need him here with paper and ink. I need to send some ravens."

Even if he was perplexed by such a request, as ravens had already been sent informing about the events of the last days, the knight nodded and did as bid. The old man didn't take long, as he was always around Bran's room in case his condition worsened.

"You called for me, my Lord" bowed the maester.

Bran looked at the maester, his expression completely calm.

"Thanks for coming so soon, maester Ulwyck. Please, take a sit and write exactly what I tell you."

The maester accommodated himself in the wooden chair, putting the ink and quill at his right.

"Whatever you say my Lord"

Brandon smirked cruelly, and a flash of madness crossed in his eyes, making a cold shiver pass through Ser Wyman's back, who was like a statue in front of him.

"I, Brandon Stark, prince of Winterfell, command you to raise a host of four hundred men and meet me in Hornwood in a fortnight" started the young lordling, causing the maester to turn around.

"My lord… if I can be so bold, what are you going to do with these men? Surely they are needed to guard the Bite from any incoming threat from the South"

Bran locked his gaze at the maester. "You are no one to question my orders maester" started the Stark, and Ulwyck lowered his head in acknowledgement of his authority "But I can understand your curiosity…"

"I am going to turn the Dreadfort into a pile of ashes, and once I'm done the Boltons and everything that was once related to them will only be a page in history books" sentenced Bran, his eyes gleaming with vengeance.

* * *

 **So here we are!**

 **I know that when I started flaying him alive, some of you thought that he would die and almost begged me to save him. Being honest, back at the moment I was hesitant to kill him or not, but I think that, considering that there is no "Three Eyed Raven plot" in this story, as there are no WW , Bran needed another plot, so after losing his legs and being partly flayed, why not turn him into "Brandon the Scarred" or something like that? I know it's risky, but I had the idea and I thought it would be nice to write it and turn Bran in some sort of twisted minded guy, cruel to his foes, bitter and suspicious about everything and everyone. He won't be a Joffrey, for he isn't completely mad, but his revenge on those who wrong him and his loved ones will be cruel.**

 **I'll wait for your reviews so I can see what you think.**

 **Also, I'm still looking for a beta-reader, if anyone has the time to do it, PM me.**

 **See you soon!**


	23. Robb VII

**Heeeyo, I'm back!**

 **Thank you for the amazing feedback I got from the last chapter. I'm happy to hear that most of you liked how I changed Bran, not everybody, but the great majority of the people who have reviewed or sent me a PM, so I will keep him that way. For those who are still sceptical about him, I beg you to keep reading the story and see how it develops, I have a huge work to do with Bran if I want him to be somehow important in this story, considering there is no Three-Eyed-Raven plot as there are no White Walkers.**

 **In this chapter, we're back at the Twins with Robb, one of the few previous chapters before the first great battle I have planned for this fic, as I need to go back to King's Landing, the Vale and the Wall before the armies meet near the God's Eye.**

 **I hope you enjoy it and I will wait for your reviews**

* * *

Only his horsemen and himself were left to go, as all the others were already on their way to their destinations. Mother and Arya to Winterfell, Edmure and Brynden to the Roseroad and all his other commanders with the main army, with the exception of Theon, Dacey and the Smalljon, who would ride with him. The battle to come would be the most important one he had fought until now and would probably decide the winner of the war.

The bards called it the War of the Four Kings, or should it be Five? After all, nobody knew what was happening at the Iron Isles, and they tried to become independent in the past. Anyways, with Renly dead and Stannis back at Dragonstone with a small fraction of his former army, the only two kings with considerable forces were Joffrey and him, and even if he had outsmarted Tywin Lannister in the past, the odds were against the North, as the full might of the Reach and what remained of the Westerlands were sufficient to outnumber his men by a considerable number, even with the recent reinforcements from the Vale

Still, nor he or his men were done yet. His army was big enough to put up a tough fight, the morale of his troops was outstanding, and he had a good battle plan, even if it was a risky one.

And arguing he was, about that plan, with his brother in all but blood, Theon Greyjoy.

"I don't know Robb, meaning no disrespect, your uncle isn't the brightest mind around. Are you sure that he will do as you command after his fail luring the Mountain?" asked a concerned Theon

"Even if he isn't, my great-uncle is with him. We both know that he is who has the real command with the army" replied Robb, earning a smirk from the kraken heir, before being interrupted by Hallis.

"Your grace, Ser Mallister has arrived to the Twins. He says that he has a matter of importance to tell you and Lord Theon" vowed the soldier respectfully.

Both wolf and kraken shared a confused look between them.

"Maybe is something about my father" muttered Theon.

"Yeah, that may be…" answered the Stark. "Bring him in, Hallis"

After giving the order, Hallis just moved out of the door, and Ser Jeremy Mallister walked in, clearly tired after the ride, and knelt in front of Robb.

"Your grace" vowed Ser Jeremy

"Rise Ser Jeremy, what brings you to the Twins with such haste? asked Robb.

"My king, I've almost killed my horse to get here in time. Someone has come to Seagard. Someone who I am sure you and your…friend, would like to see" told the old knight, looking at Theon deadly serious. Even if he respected him for fighting alongside his king, the old rivalry between the Mallister of Seaguard and the Greyjoys of Pyke was too much for him, who had fought them back in the Greyjoy Rebellion.

"And who may that be, Ser?"

"Asha Greyjoy"

Theon's eyes widened at the mention of his sister. The last time that he had seen her, Pyke had fallen, his brother Maric had died and his father had knelt and surrendered to the Stag. A thousand thoughts passed through Theon's mind, one worse than the other.

"Where is she, Mallister" demanded Theon.

"She is at the gates escorted by my most trusted men, waiting for the King to allow her in" voiced the old knight.

He looked at Robb, who just nodded at him, and he ran out of the room.

* * *

Riding had never been her favourite thing to do. It was true that she always went from Pyke to Lordsport by horse, but she was a kraken and was way more comfortable at the sea, commanding her ship and her men. But this was another small sacrifice she needed to do to get Theon back.

 _I wonder how will he look after so many years… I can only pray to the Drowned God that Ned Stark hasn't turned him into a wolf._

"A lone rider approaches from the inner castle" voiced one of the Mallister soldiers accompanying her.

She looked at the rider at the distance without interest. He rode like any greenlander would, accustomed to ride long distances. However, as he got closer, a feeling of familiarity started to appear, and he recognised him when the soldiers let him pass through the gates.

Short brown hair, black eyes, a kraken in his chestplate and the same smile he had when he was a boy.

She dismounted and advanced forward like someone who had seen a ghost, and Theon did the same, stopping only when he was a palm away from her.

"Sister" told Theon, recognising her, and without further warning, hugged her fiercely.

"I've waited too long to see you again, Asha" told his brother. He broke the hug and looked at her up and down. A smirk formed in the former face.

"It seems that you have become a captain by your own" said Theon, pointing with his finger at the armour she was wearing.

Honestly, she was a bit surprised by his brother. Even if he had the looks, he didn't talk like an ironborn, but while the greenlanders would look down at her for wearing chainmail, his brother had only smirked and accepted it.

"You look well too, little brother" managed to say, but was cut by him before adding anything else.

"You must be weary from your travel, horses aren't popular between ironborn. Come in, eat and drink with me, I'm sure Robb won't mind leaving us alone for some time."

* * *

He knew that Theon would want to talk alone with his sister for a time, so he took his time to relax a bit.

 _I won't get more moments like this in a long time._

He wrote and sent a raven to his wife Jeyne, who was waiting for him in Riverrun, bathed and took a nap. A couple of hours later, he dressed himself. While he never wore plate unless he was riding to war, he had learnt to never take out some mail while he was at war, and he never went unarmed since Roose's treason.

He went to Theon's rooms and knocked at the door.

"Who is knocking at my chambers now?!" voiced an angry Theon, clearly upset about being interrupted.

"It's me, Theon" told Robb. He heard footseps and the door opened, revealing his long life friend.

"I was just talking about you and our Battle at Oxcross" told the happiest Theon he had ever seen. Before he could come in, he whispered something in his ear.

"Don't call her _Lady Greyjoy_ or she will cut your balls" said the kraken, earning a chuckle from Robb. "Captain Greyjoy would be much better"

Robb came in, followed by Theon who had just closed the door, and met Asha Greyjoy, who was now on his feet.

"So this is the famous King in the North who you're talking about endlessly" told the annoyed she-kraken.

"And you must be Theon's sister… but looking at you I guess that I should call you Captain Greyjoy rather than Lady" told Robb back, offering his hand and surprising her.

"Uhm, maybe not all the greenlanders are stupid" replied her with a smirk, shaking his hand.

Everybody sat around the small table, and Robb poured himself a glass of ale.

"So what brings you here, Captain?" asked Robb, eager to know why Theon's sister was here.

Both Theon and Asha looked deadly solemn when Robb asked, leaving him unsettled.

"My father claimed the Seastone chair and proclaimed himself King of Salt and Sea, but not a day after that, he was found dead at the shores of Pyke after falling from one of the bridges that connect the different parts of the castle" started Asha, who looked at his brother with concern.

Robb cleared his throat. Even if Balon hadn't been the best father figure, he was Theon's father nonetheless.

"I'm sorry for your loss, to both of you. I guess that you have come here to bring back Theon and crown him as Balon's heir?"

"It's not that easy" answered Theon fast. "My uncle Euron is back at the Iron Islands, trying to take what is rightfully mine. The Damphair will push for a kingsmoot in Old Wyk. I can't stay here Robb. I need to go back and claim my seat."

Robb nodded slowly. If Theon was crowned and allied with him, the Greyjoys could control the entire west coast of Westeros, from the Banefort to the Arbor, and not even the Redwyne Fleet would be able to stop them.

"The Captains won't choose you if you don't prove yourself worthy, Theon" told Asha, earning Robb's attention. "The Iron Islands aren't like the rest of the Kingdoms. Even if you are Balon's last living son, you need to show your strength and prove yourself a real ironborn. You have been out of the isles for far too long."

Theon remained quiet while his sister spoke, but it was clear that he was thinking hard. He suddenly smirked and looked to both Robb and Asha.

"I know sister, and I know how I will prove myself a real ironborn, to you and to the other captains."

"You have a plan" told Robb "And for the look in that face of yours I think that I'm going to like it"

"You know Robb, growing up with you and this war has taught me some things. Do you think that the Lannister have learned about his last failures at the sea?" asked Theon cockily, who then started to laugh, Robb joining him in realisation, knowing exactly was his friend was going to do.

"What the fuck are you talking about Theon?" asked Asha, confused about the situation.

"Dear sister, uncle Victarion burned the Lannister fleet once, but I am more ambitious" told Theon, who then put his hand on his sister's shoulder.

"I will steal the fleet anchored in Lannisport and go back to the Iron Isles with Western thralls and salt-wives. Who knows, maybe we get a good amount of gold while we reap and kill those cunts" said Theon before laughing again.

Asha looked at him and understood his reasons. If he was to push his name in a kingsmoot, he needed his own ships, not hers, and it would make him look like a good sailor, captain and reaper to just steal the one from the first resistance they could find once the isles proclaimed its independence.

 _Perhaps I misjudged him. There is no doubt that he is ironborn._ Thought Asha, hiding the smile forming in her face.

* * *

"Are you sure about that, Ser Barristan?" asked Dany to his old protector. Despite having been with Aegon for weeks, talking with him about their comeback to the Seven Kingdoms, he still had no proof other than words about him being Rhaegar's son, but in this matter, the word of Ser Barristan Selmy counted more than anyone's voice for her.

"On my honour as a knight, your grace. When I saw him, I saw your brother come again" swore Selmy. "And I think that his plans to come back to Westeros are completely reasonable, even if they stop you to control the entirety of Slave's Bay, house Targaryen breeds Kings for Westeros, not Essos" continued the knight. He could see that the idea of not being Queen didn't settle well with Daenerys, as Aegon wisely thought that it was more important to marry into other Great Houses, like the Tyrells or the Martells, rather than keeping the bloodline pure. Still, Daenerys knew that this was the better chance they would have to cross the Narrow Sea and nodded at Barristan in acknowledgement.

"Very well, let's go to the docks then, it's time to go home" commanded Dany, smiling at the idea of going back to Westeros.

By the time they had arrived, almost all the men were already on board. 8,000 unsullied, 2,000 men of the Second Sons and 10,000 men of the Golden Company, including his elephants, were ready to launch their invasion.

"Dear aunt" smiled Aegon politely, giving her a kiss on her hand "Ser Barristan, it's a pleasure to have a knight of your renown leading our men into battle"

"The Kingsguard serve for life, my King. I will do as I am bid" replied Ser Barristan, vowing his head.

Aegon nodded and turned back to his aunt. "The Dornish will move once we arrive to Cape Wrath, and the conquest will begin as planned. Are you ready for this, Dany?

She looked to the sky. It was a clear day and the sun shone bright to them. And obviously, her dragons were happy to fly free again.

"Me and my children cannot wait more" smiled Daenerys back.

"To Westeros then, we will reclaim what is ours aunt, and the heads of our enemies will be on a spike at the top of the Red Keep" said Aegon. He looked to the dragons too, a wide smile on his face. " _Fire and Blood._ "

* * *

"The next time I see you, I expect you with and army behind and calling you King" told Robb, shaking Theon's hand.

"We can only hope so" responded Theon. "But first, I need my own fleet and the support of some captains. There is work to be done, brother"

"We both have much to do" replied Robb "And time is running out"

"Aye… Just don't lose the war while I'm away" smirked the kraken, earning a chuckle from Robb

"Count with it"

Both parties left the castle. Asha and Theon went back to Seagard accompanied by the Mallisters where they would sail directly to Lannisport, while Robb would ride with his remaining cavalry all his way down to the Antlers.

For better or worse, the pieces were set, and the balance of power in Westeros was at stake.

* * *

 **So here we are!**

 **I hope that the small fragment of Dany and Aegon wasn't confusing, but I needed to send them already to Westeros. I know the timelines of all the POVs might look slightly messed up, but it will be clearer as the story advances, I promise.**

 **I will wait for your feedback!**

 **See you soon!**


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